The King and the Rose
by betrayedsuccubus
Summary: Dracula's castle has risen again, this time in the middle of New York City. When the owner of a magical bookshop is swept into the terrifying world of the vampire king, she is forced to confront both her past, and her future, while dealing with feelings that are very dangerous indeed. This is based on the Lords of Shadow games (with a little bit of the show thrown in).
1. Chapter 1

The bell above the door tinkles alerting me to a customer, along with a gust of chill fall air. The day has been slow, like most days. I slip a ribbon into the book I've been reading and look up to the tall man who has just entered. He is very pale, so much so I wonder if he is unwell. His sandy hair is greying at the temples, and his aging face does not hide that he must have been very handsome in his prime. He now has what many people would call a distinguished look. His coat and suit are very old fashioned, but the people who come here often dress strangely.

"Can I help you find something this evening sir?" I ask. Stepping out from behind the counter and skirting around a large display of crystals.

"I believe you can." He looks at me with eyes so pale blue that I feel like they're looking through me rather than at me. He has an accent that I can't quite place, something European I think. He extends a graceful hand with long nails, and shakes mine with a firmness that is at odds with his frail appearance. "My name is Lord Nicholas DeLero. I am looking for some particularly… unique tomes." I look at him closely, judging his intent. He has a strange way of angling his face away from me while talking.

"My name is Rose. What kind of tomes specifically are you looking for?"

"Nothing that is for the general public, I am interested in rare and ancient tomes." He gives me a conspiratorial look.

"Ah." I say. He's looking for _those_ books. "Give me a moment." I take down the open sign, lock the door, and put up the sign that reads: _back in 15 minutes_. I pull out a key from my front pocket of my dark green tunic dress. "Follow me." I say walking toward the back hallway. The faded wallpaper and creaky floorboards give this place the appearance of normalcy.

The main floor is a typical occult shop, filled with crystals, Wicca books, incense, and posters of chakras. This is just for show though. The real magic shop is in the basement. I lead him down the hall and unlock the basement door.

"Is there something you are looking for in particular? Most of what I have here is western European, with a little bit of Mesoamerican texts, but I recently acquired a few transcriptions of ancient Egyptian scrolls. My mother studied lycanthropy so we have many texts on werewolves. Also, I've been looking into a few Gaelic relics so we have some texts on those now." I say as we descend the stairs into the brightly lit basement.

"I am curious if you have any information on vampires." He says from behind me. "I don't have any books on them specifically. There are a few books here that reference them, or might have a chapter on them." I say turning back to him. It's like his blue eyes are almost glowing. Mage's have weird looks sometimes but this one takes the cake.

"Do you know anything about them then?" he asks, looking at me intently.

"Um, I haven't really done a lot of research into them. They're more old world, and they show up so rarely now that there isn't much demand for literature on them. My theory is they're around, but that they're all smart enough to keep out of sight. I can get in touch with some of my contacts to try to get some books sent in if you want."

"That's very kind of you." He scans a few of the books on the nearest shelf. "How did you come to own this shop?" he doesn't turn from the book he's examining.

"I inherited it from my mother when she died when I was twelve. My aunt Seraphine was the proprietor until I was old enough to take over the business for myself. It's been in my family for over two hundred years." My family of magical book lovers, hoarding and protecting magical knowledge through the generations.

"And are your family practitioners?" His finger trails over the spines of the books.

"My grandmother was, and so is my aunt, and my great grandmother was a great and powerful warlock." I'm used to new customers wanting to know my magical lineage. Heritage is very important in this small community. Which makes it even stranger that I have no idea who this man is.

He turns to me, "and you?" This is where it gets awkward.

"No, I've never shown an aptitude; neither did my mother." He gives me a strange look but goes back to perusing the shelves. I pull at the dark sleeves of my dress nervously, being the dead end in a magical family tree is a sore subject for me. My mom was the first non-magical child in the history of our family, a great disappointment.

"And can you read all of these?" he asks turning to me again.

"Most of them," I reply with a little pride. "I can read Italian, French, Latin, Ancient Sumerian, Old English, Romanian, and I'm currently working on my Gaelic."

"Impressive for someone so young." He says studying me in an intensely uncomfortable way. "And do you care for these books too?" he runs his hand down the worn leather spine of one.

"Yes, I repair them, some of them have special magical needs that have to be taken into account. If you have books in need of repair the price will depend on their condition and individual needs, but I am more than capable of caring for them."

"I have many books that might benefit from your expertise." He pulls an old alchemical text from the shelves and turns back to me "For now I will take this, but I am sure you will be seeing more of me." The way he says it is more than a little foreboding.

I ring him out for the book and instead of re-opening the shop I decide to close early, it's already 8:30 pm and I usually stay open until at least 9:30 but an early night sounds nice. The fall cold is seeping into my bones and I feel the need to spend a warm night in bed. I switch the sign to closed and pull down the metal shutters. I meander to the back hallway and up the creaky stairs to my small apartment.

That guy Nicholas was weird, not in his appearance, but in the fact that I've never seen him before. I know almost all the practitioners in the whole U.S. and most of Canada also. There aren't many, and there are even fewer magical bookstores. There's one on the West coast in L.A. and me in New York, there's also one in Mexico City, but that's pretty much it for the new world. Of coarse there are more in the rest of the world. We keep in touch, most volumes are one of a kind, and transcribing a magic book takes time and incredibly valuable and rare materials. So if someone is looking for something in particular contacting other shops is a necessity.

I open the door to my small apartment and spy Duke, lounging on his blanket in front of the window. Watching the passersby.

"Brrrppp?" He trills spying me. His giant green eyes watch me pad toward the kitchen in my socks.

"Hello Duke. Did you have a good day?" no reply, but he stretches lazily then jumps down to follow me into the kitchen; fluffy black tail raised high. I pull out some beef and vegetables and start cutting them to make a stir-fry. Duke jumps up to the table and sits, watching me.

"We had a real customer today Duke. Someone new. I wonder if aunt Seraphine would know him. Very pale, might be sick or something." Duke stares impassively as I chat to him while cooking. When I'm done I fill two bowls, one for me, and a bowl of cubed raw meat for Duke. We eat in silence; Duke isn't one for much conversation, especially when dinner is served. As I'm finishing my last bite my phone buzzes in my pocket. A picture of a golden haired middle-aged woman appears, large jeweled earrings hang from her ears and a broad smile pulls on deep laugh lines.

I answer the phone, "Aunt Seraphine! I was just thinking of you."

"Hello dear. I hope you and Duke are well." Says the warm voice from the other end.

"We were just finishing dinner. To what do I owe the pleasure?" I say wiping my mouth with my napkin.

"Unfortunately dear, I have grave news. I want you and Duke to leave the city immediately. Something terrible is about to happen. All of New York is in grave danger. Come stay with me in Phoenix for a while."

"You're back in Phoenix now?" I say ignoring the prophecies of doom. She portends disaster about once a year, it's always true, but usually something like a hurricane, or ice storm. She did foresee the 2001 terrorist attacks, but she's never prophesied anything I couldn't ride out in the apartment.

"Yes dear, it's wonderfully sunny. Please come stay here for a while. Something like I've never felt before is coming. I fear for your life."

"Oh aunt Seraphine, New York is always having disasters. I will be alright, you know the shop is safe, and Duke will protect me." I scratch his chin.

"I can't convince you then?" she sounds very sad.

"No Auntie, you know I don't want to leave New York."

"Dear, this is something terrible. Please reconsider."

"I'll think about it." I try to change the subject "Do you know a man named Nicholas DeLero? He came in today looking for books, had some kind of an European accent." There is a pause on the other end of the line.

"No I don't think I've ever heard that name. Strange. I know almost everyone; I can put out some inquiries though."

"Thanks, you should come visit soon, Duke misses you." Duke yowls loudly in the background.

"Tell him I miss him too. Take care of yourself Rose, I love you."

"I love you too Aunt Seraphine." She hangs up and I sigh, putting the phone down and absentmindedly begin to scratch Duke behind the ears.

"So Duke, should we take some extra precautions for this disaster Aunt Seraphine is predicting?" Duke tilts his head so I can scratch deeper under his ear. I pick him up and set him on my shoulders. I spend the rest of the night pulling out various protective charms from a chest under the bed and placing them in the windows and doorways. Midnight finds Duke and I finally making our way into bed. Duke curling up into his small cat bed on the foot of my bed.

"My Lord." Nicholas takes a knee before the figure on the dark throne.

"I have told you not to disturb me, have I not?" the figure growls. Two crimson eyes pierce through the darkness.

"This matter is time sensitive my lord. I beg your forgiveness." Nicholas bows his head low. A sigh.

"Get on with it then." The voice comes from the shadows.

"As you know," Nicholas looks up, still kneeling; "the castle has been without a master librarian for some time. The books are not well cared for, and my research has suffered as a result."

"Yes I know you have mentioned this more than once, but we do not have anyone with the skills to fill the role and I am preoccupied with much more important matters right now." He sounds bored and mildly annoyed with this conversation.

"That is just why I have come to you my lord. I believe I have found someone who is capable of fulfilling the role. I believe she is also an unfledged sorceress, she believes she has no power. However, I looked into her family tree and she is the youngest of Sirena's descendants." The figure on the throne shifts, leaning forward slightly. Nicholas has his attention now. "However, she will be dead in hours, if your armies continue their advance. I beg you to let me bring her here my lord."

"Go then," The voice commands. Nicholas rises, bows, and makes a hurried exit from the throne room.

"That is a name I have not heard in a long time." he says to the empty room. The castle starts to groan with movement; making a space for it's new guest.


	2. Chapter 2

I wake up late the next morning, the clock next to my bed tells me its half past eleven. I should be opening the store in half an hour but instead I pull Duke in under the blanket and pull up the news on my phone. Multiple sources are reporting gangs of junkies on some kind of new drug attacking people along with rabid dogs on the loose. Also, freak weather, it's almost noon but it looks as if the sun has just set. The city is in some kind of strange twilight. Every news outlet is repeating the same thing: stay indoors. I pull up a video titled MUTANT DOG MASSACRE IN NEW YORK the footage shows three "dogs" galloping down the street toward a police barrier, one clears a cop car in an effortless bound, landing on an officer and ripping his arm off, while taking fire from police on either side. The other two bowl into the barricade at full tilt, sending the concrete smashing into a line of mounted police, their horses screaming as they fall and are set upon by the dogs. This is really bad. Those are not dogs. They're the size of mastiffs but almost completely hairless except for a mane. Their eyes seem to glow.

Hellhounds. I've seen drawings in old texts of something similar; descriptions of the beasts describe them as savage killers, indiscriminant in their quest for bloodshed. There is no way though that there are hellhounds in New York. Only something powerful could summon them, and who would release them in the city? Maybe someone accidentally summoned one.

I close down the video and burry my face in Duke's fur for a minute, drawing comfort from him. I pull the blanket around both of us. I pick Duke up, carry him to our chair, and switch on the tv.

 _"Chaos in the streets is what we're seeing today Tom."_ Says the female reporter _"A little after ten last night what some are calling feral dogs crawled out from the sewers and began attacking passersby. Soon after, what some are describing as junkies on some new kind of drug started making violent attacks on revelers in Times Square. Police have been unable to stop the attacks, or even to contain them. Last night six blocks of Midtown were cordoned off but this morning authorities have put all of Midtown in a state of emergency. Residents are cautioned to stay away from windows and doors."_ The footage shows a line of police behind the female newscaster. _"I'm here with Police Chief Smithson. What can you tell us … … these attacks and why haven't … … gotten them under control?"_ She holds the microphone up to a man with a greying moustache in full riot gear.

 _"We currently do not know the source of these attacks but we are advising … midtown not to panic… … reason to… … coordinated attack … group."_ The feed is cutting in and out now. The sound is going out quite a bit, but as it progresses the picture starts to break into static as well.

 _"….rumors … … these … … junkies? … footage …"_

 _"When … … they stop… … get … … are just …"_

The tv cuts to a man in a studio. "Alright Tanya, stay safe out there. We're getting a video coming in now from one of our viewers of what they saw last night." A grainy cell phone video pops up of something running down a street chasing people. The camera focuses and a horrific creature is revealed, it looks human but pale, corpselike skin is stretched over a sinewy body. Its hands are claw like and the face is pinched with large pointed ears. The worst part is its mouth; it looks like the mouth of some kind of unholy predator. The footage cuts out as it leaps at a man.

Duke bristles and begins a low growl from my lap. I stroke him, trying to calm both of us. The man comes back on. "Do you have a video you would like to share? Send it to our studio via facebook or twitter!" The tv breaks to a commercial but I remain rooted to the chair. Both of us stay there for hours, watching the footage unfold on the television. Meteorologists are scrambling to explain the freak weather. It's not clouds, it's not smoke, it's just dark. In the streets the police are continuing to retreat in the face of an unknown enemy that seemingly can't be gunned down. Scattered videos of things flying through the air, and lumbering hulks in the shadows are played over and over.

"We are now being told that Midtown East, Murray Hill, Korea Town, and Hell's Kitchen are being told to evacuate. Authorities say not to panic, but to make your way to the Queensborough Bridge, the Midtown Tunnel, or the Lincoln Tunnel immediately. Hell's kitchen, that spurs me into action.

"C'mon Duke, we're leaving." I set him on the floor and hurry to change into some jeans, a white button up shirt, and a black sweater. I stuff a change of clothes, my laptop, phone, wallet, and toiletries into a backpack before grabbing my coat and heading for the door, Duke at my heels.

The street is packed with cars, people trying to get their families and belongings into their vehicles as quickly as possible. I call Duke and he leaps into my arms, then climbs up to my shoulders, wrapping his tail around my neck like a scarf. Many people like me either don't have cars, or have decided that walking will be faster. The crowd is all headed for the Lincoln Tunnel and we're easily swept up in the mob. After only a few blocks someone in the front of the crowd screams, suddenly there's a push back, the people in front are turning and trying to run back while the people from the back are still moving forward. Many people are screaming now. I hear a horrible sound from in front, like a gurgling snarl, and a wet gnashing sound. Every hair on Duke's body stands on end and a low growl starts next to my ear. I turn and start to push my way back through the crowd. Everyone is trying to go in a different direction. A horrible howl echoes down a side street and terrified people start to run in every direction I try to break free of the crowd but I end up pulled along for almost a block. I jump over the side of a newsstand and pull myself in under the counter trying to make myself as small as possible. Duke starts to growl again.

"Shh, Duke, we have to be quiet." He acquiesces but continues to lash his tail back and forth. I don't know how long we stay like that under the counter. The sounds from outside are horrible. It's like everyone in the city is screaming all at once. Frantic voices and running footsteps pass our hiding place. I hear a woman crying nearby. There's a horrible wet noise and her crying turns into a long screech that gurgles into silence. Something large slams into the stand at one point, showering us in magazines. I clap my hand over my mouth to stifle a shriek. I can hear something breathing on the other side of the wood, something big. I stay frozen, until I hear it move away. We stay until the noise dies down, and then some. I'm shaking and holding onto Duke for dear life. We have to get out of here; the apartment will be safer. We have to get back home. Steeling myself I inch upwards until I can just peer over the counter. The street looks deserted now. In the gloom I can make out bodies on the pavement, many look like they were trampled in the confusion; a few have been torn open, and barely resemble people, their insides strewn about the street. I duck back down and immediately vomit all over the floor. Duke jumps onto the counter and hisses at me in annoyance. We have to get home, I can freak out later. C'mon, you can do this. I swing over the counter and we creep along the buildings, hugging the walls. It's only three blocks back to the store, but it feels like miles. We barely make it back without being seen by one of the strange human creatures. It seemed occupied with the poor soul it was eating. I slam the door on the stairwell, but I don't stop running until we're locked in the apartment. My breath is coming in short gasps, I don't realize I'm crying until I feel Duke licking my face.

"I'm ok buddy. We're ok." I pull out my phone and try to call aunt Seraphine. _No coverage_ reads the screen. "Aaauuuuggg!" I lob the device across the room. We're trapped. No… I'm trapped. I look down at Duke.

"Ok Duke, I need your help. I can't get out of here. I hate to ask you this buddy, but I need you to go and get help. Do you remember aunt Seraphine's friend Morgan in Salem? I need you to fly there for me as quickly as you can and tell her what's happened. She can contact aunt Seraphine. Duke jumps down from my arms and hisses at me. "I wouldn't ask you to do this unless it was life or death, and I think it is. Please? For me?" Duke wrinkles his nose. I know the idea of changing is distasteful to him. In his heart he really is a cat, being anything else is uncomfortable for him, even though he can change at will. He begins to shrink in size, whiskers pulling inwards, hair growing longer, claws elongating, and head compressing until a raven blinks back at me from the floor.

"Thank you buddy. I swear, when this is over I will buy you an entire salmon every week for a year." The raven lets out a loud caw. I pick him up and carry him to the window. "Be careful Duke." I whisper as he takes off, a black body against a black sky. I watch the little shape until I can't see him anymore, then I shut the window.

More than likely rescue will come too late for me. I'm glad to know though that Duke will be safe. Fat tears slide down my cheeks as I slump down under the window. I'm going to die horribly here, I'm sure of it. I can hear things moving through the streets around the building. Screeching calls echo between the structures. The little charms I have wont stand up to things like this. I'm sure they will smell me or hear me soon; as soon as the easy prey running in the streets is gone they're going to come into the buildings. I need some way to defend myself. I go to the kitchen and pull out my carving knife and slip in in between my belt and jeans. I grab my bag and stuff some water bottles, and a few granola bars in it. I grab my blanket and pillow and head downstairs. The basement is my best bet. The door to the book room is heavy solid wood and the whole room has no windows, It's possible that if I stay quiet I can make it long enough for Duke to reach Morgan and her to contact aunt Seraphine. I run the math in my head: It will probably take Duke at least ten hours to get there, an hour for them to get the information and prepare for a teleportation spell, an hour for the spell to get aunt Seraphine to Salem, then at least a two hour drive here. Then who knows how long it will take them to make their way through the city. I just need to stay hidden for a little while. I creep down to the basement, every noise outside making me freeze. I finally close the door behind me and lock it from the inside. I drag a heavy chair over from the reading table and jam it under the doorknob. I fold up my blanket and pillow in the space under the desk, and crawl under it, pulling my backpack up to me like a door on a child's fort.

I'm only under there for a few minutes when I hear a board creak upstairs. I listen hard; it sounds like footsteps, but all the doors are locked and I didn't hear anything breaking. There's no way Aunt Seraphine could be here already is there? Maybe as soon as she saw the news reports she left to come here. Maybe I'm going to be fine. That's when the door explodes inward in a hail of splinters. I instinctively cover my face with my arm to shield it from the debris.

"There you are." Says a quiet accented voice. I look up from my hiding place and see the man, Nicholas, who came to the store yesterday. For a second I feel relief rise in my chest, then caution takes over. I pull myself out from under the desk. My hand moves to my belt.

"How did you get here? They're killing everyone on the street… and how did you break down that door just now?" I pull out my knife, and keep it by my side. Things really aren't adding up here now that I'm thinking about it.

"Very observant of you." He isn't doing his strange way of talking to me while looking away from me anymore, and now I see why. I can see a pair of fangs glinting when he talks.

"Stay away from me!" I shout, scrambling back to the wall and brandishing the knife in front of me. At least I can die trying to fight. I'm not going to go down crying in a heap, I know that much.

"If I wanted you dead Lady Rose you would already be so." He advances on me with a few long strides. I tighten my grip on the knife, I've gotta get out of here. I stab out wildly in panic. Nicholas lets out a grunt. "Now that was completely uncalled for." I watch transfixed in horror as he pulls the blade out from between his ribs, a little blood stains his suit as he flings the knife away, it lands with a clatter in the corner of the room. I feel like the air in my lungs has gone solid. "If you're thoroughly finished, I had mentioned before that I had some books in need of your expertise."

"What the fuck dude, this is not the time for that!" I yell, totally loosing it.

"Well either you can come with me, or I can call the hellhounds. Your choice." He shrugs and begins pocketing a few books off the shelves.

"They're yours?" I start to back away again.

"No, but they will listen to me. My master's library has need of a librarian. I believe you will fill the role satisfactorily." He straitens his shirt over where the stab wound is.

"Why would I do that? Why would I ever help someone who's laying waste to the city?" I spit back.

"As I said; if you don't think it's worth your time I can call the hounds and be on my way." I swallow but remain silent. "Come, we have already wasted much time." He extends a hand toward me; his long nails look more like claws to me now.

"I… I need to pack some clothes." I say, strangely something so mundane is what comes into my head. Clothes. Something is wrong with me.

"Of coarse, please be quick though, we are in a bit of hurry." He steps aside and I rush past him, taking the stairs two at a time, my feet racing almost as fast as my thoughts. Is this a good thing? I'm not getting eaten, but I'm definitely not getting out. What the hell is happening to the city? I should try to get away. I wouldn't get far. Maybe this isn't so bad. Maybe this is worse than dying. I pull out a duffel bag and start stuffing clothes into it. Wool skirt, black turtleneck, black boots, black silk blouse, black sweater dress, dark green velvet skirt with cinched waist, many more follow until I've stuffed most of my closet into the bag. My general wardrobe could probably be classified as goth librarian. I wrap my laptop in a sweater and push it in. I run to the bathroom and sweep almost my whole cabinet into the bag without a second thought. I grab the necklace my aunt gave me when I graduated high school, a protective charm, and shove it into my pocket. I head to the living room, but then run back into my bedroom and grab the picture frame from beside my bed. I glance at it briefly before I shove it into my bag. My mom holds a laughing eight year old me on her lap; she's smiling at the camera, our almost identical red hair framing both of our faces. The photo was taken a week before she got sick. It's the last good photo I have of her and it's how I want to remember her. I turn to go back to the living room and almost slam into the tall figure in the doorway. Both our heads whip around as a crash comes from the store below.

"Time to go." He says, grabbing my wrist. I struggle but his grip is like iron. Suddenly my feet leave the floor and I'm pitched forward into a running river, a tornado, a roaring blizzard. It's horrible, I'm suffocating and being torn apart at the same time. Wham! My feet hit ground and I pitch face first toward the stones, except the grip on my wrist keeps me from hitting my head.

"You did remarkably well. I thought you would faint." He says, finally letting go of me. I push my hair back from my face and finally look around. The room is absolutely ancient, like flagstones and gothic arches ancient. There are huge columns holding up the ceiling, and I crane my neck upward, almost unable to see the peak of the roof stories above me. The most amazing this is the books; there must be a million of them. The shelves extend out into the darkness and stairs wind up pillars going to the second and third floor, and maybe beyond. The smell of old leather, parchment, candles, and mildew is heavy in the air. Candles flicker on a few nearby tables. Two huge female statues are carved into the pillars right in front of us, they each hold a bowl to the sky and in front of them a river of fire pours down into a brazier at their feet.

"Beautiful isn't it?" Nicholas says from behind me. I realize I've been staring for a long time.

"Who's library did you say this was again?" I say dumbly, still staring at the incredible architecture and collection of tomes.

"My Master, Dracula, is Lord of this castle." I can't stifle the giggle that escapes me.

"Dude news flash, Dracula is fictional." He almost smiles.

"You shouldn't let him catch you saying that." He says. "I will show you where you will be staying and let you settle in. I would suggest not leaving the library. Not all the denizens of this castle are as friendly as I am."

He leads me dumbly past a huge front counter made entirely of dark carved wood and to a small archway behind. We descend a flight of stairs and stop at an intricately carved wood door.

"You're rooms my lady. This is where I leave you." He bows and ascends the stairs behind me. I grab the knob then turn, back.

"Wait!" He turns, "Where are we?"

"Why my dear, we've never left New York." He says then continues up the stairs.

Last time I checked New York didn't have a giant castle library thing. But last time I checked it didn't also have hellhounds or crazy demon people-eating things. Just roll with it I tell myself. I tentatively push on the door, the wood is smooth under my touch and it opens silently into a small living room. To the right a fire roars in a rough stone fireplace a Victorian chaise lounge is opposite it, I walk behind the lounge and peer into the doorway on the left wall: a small kitchen. I open some cabinets and to my joy there is actual food there. I'm not going to have to drink blood or eat human hearts or something it looks like. I return to the living room and cross to the doorway opposite the entrance. A large four-poster bed covered in deep crimson sheets sits against the right wall; a matching carpet runs almost the length of the room. Next to me is a large oak wardrobe, which I drop my bag in front of. On the left wall is a door, I push it open to find a bathroom tiled in dark grey slate, a large white claw foot bathtub is the main feature in the room. It honestly looks like I'm in some gothic themed hotel. I'm stuck here for now, I guess I should get comfortable until I can figure out more of my situation. Even though it's not very late at all I'm exhausted from the emotional and physical stress of the day. I make sure to bolt the door and then dive beneath the heavenly covers of what I imagine is the softest bed in the world. My sleep however is not peaceful, screams from the streets echo in my nightmares.


	3. Chapter 3

I don't know how long I slept but I'm still tired when I wake up. However, I'm also hungry. I groan sleepily and stretch under the warm blankets. What the hell am I doing here? Not dying; not dying is why I'm here. I don't want to die like those people in the streets. I pull out my phone and try to text Aunt Seraphine. My phone just reads _no service_. I throw it onto the sheets with a groan. I pad through the living room in my bare feet. The fire, which should be dead by now, is still in the same state I left it last night. Interesting, it doesn't seem magical, more like, frozen in time. In the kitchen there are only a few cupboards and a quick investigation reveals what I was hoping for: cereal. I'm not up for anything more this morning. I eat quickly, shower, and dress, pulling on black leggings, a knee length A-line wool skirt, and a black long sleeved blouse. I put on minimal makeup and a pair of ruby earrings my aunt got me when I turned eighteen. I grab my grey ankle boots and head to the door. The library has been playing in the back of my mind since I woke up. I pull the bolt on my door and take the steps two at a time. It seems like the library should be gone, like it's a dream, but it's still there. I step up behind the huge counter, running my hands over the smooth warn surface. A shelf behind the desk catches my eye and I turn to browse the books on it. The small plaque above the shelf is written in latin: _In need of repair_. The shelf is stuffed, and there are books piled on top as well, and all of them are most definitely in need of repair. Many have detached from their binding, or the stitching has disintegrated entirely. Many are torn, water damaged, and some are even burned.

"Poor things. Has no one been taking care of you?" I whisper to them. They don't speak, but I know what their answer is. "I'll be back for you." I say to them. The rest of the library is calling me. There is a worn dark red carpet running the main walkways and I follow it into the depths of the stacks. The books whisper eons of secrets to me as I allow my fingers to drift along worn leather spines. I can tell many are simply books, but some, through their materials, show themselves as powerful magical artifacts. No one binds a book using spider silk unless they have to. I can feel the weight of the knowledge of eons bearing down on me. I want to lose myself in the depths of this library and never come up for air. I continue to wander deeper into the shelves. A tall iron gate blocks my path, I push on it hopefully and to my surprise it swings open with a loud squeal of rusty hinges. The space it separates seems to be a reading room; there are heavy oak tables similar in style to the front desk, candles burn everywhere, lighting the space much better than within the shelves. The area seems to be a dead end, but there is a balcony I can see the next floor up. Exiting the reading space I close the gate as quietly as I can manage. It still screams in protest though. I head back the way I had come a little ways, then turn to the right, passing through rows and rows of dark shelves. I imagine I see shadows moving between the bookcases, maybe they're real; don't dwell on it. I finally make it to a wall. Ornate stained glass windows, three stories high, cover most of the wall. Immediately I run to the windows, and press a hand to the cold glass. Looking out one clear piece in the design in the distance I see… Brooklyn. Either this is an impressive illusion, or Nicholas wasn't lying when he said we never left New York. The library must be at least sixty floors up. From what I can tell I'm somewhere near where Grand Central Terminal should be, but when I look down, I see towers and great ancient halls below me, gothic windows and arches support ancient bridges and huge spires. Further out are ramparts jutting up against familiar buildings. Like someone has simply dropped an ancient castle in the middle of the city, but the most enormous castle to ever exist.

"How?" I whisper out loud. A shadow crosses the window. Instinctively I leap back with a shriek. A cloud of bats passes by heading into the night. _Bats; just bats; don't be such a sissy_. I chide myself. I've seen worse. To the right a marble staircase winds up to the second level, the banister is carved in the form or a huge snake, winding up a pillar at the top, mouth open, fangs bared. My fingers brush along the cool marble as I climb. The sounds of my footsteps on the stone seem unnaturally loud in my ears. At the top of the stairs the wall is lined with more shelves. I lean over the railing, able to see better now the scope of the library. It's truly incredible. I can say this is, without a doubt, the largest magical library in existence. There must be over a hundred of the huge shelves on the main floor. I look up, there are things moving up there on the higher walkways, they look somewhat human, but their bone white skin tells me otherwise, from here I can't make out much but their heads seem pinched and unnatural. I don't think that I want to meet them anytime soon. I thought I knew a lot about magical creatures, but the last twenty-four hours has proved how out of my depth I am.

I head back down and move along the wall until I reach the front of the library again and sit down at the front counter, pulling a book off of the shelf behind me at random. The cover is in Latin but the rough translation is _Creating and Maintaining a Skull Guardian._ Interesting. The pages have separated into a few different bundles and all of them are completely disconnected from the cover itself. I gently pull them out from the cover and begin to look through them. It seems like a skull guardian is used like a security camera, or a motion sensor. Their creation is a gruesome business. Inside a special ritual circle the skull must have its eyes pulled out and replaced with two rubies. Most victims don't survive past this initial step and the process must be repeated with a new victim. Next it must be flayed alive while still attached to the body. Then when it is completely devoid of flesh it must be severed from the neck with a single clean blow from a silver dagger coated in the casters blood. I believe the purpose of the blood is to bind the skull to whomever it is supposed to serve. The skull is then thrown into a brazier filled with phosphorus while the specific spell is chanted eleven times. At the eleventh time the skull will rise from the flames ready to serve its new master. I set the pages aside; even just the introduction is enough to turn my stomach.

I start to empty the drawers behind the counter, needles, thread, leather, razors, embossing tools, awls, bone folders, hole punches. It feels natural. After the fucked up few days I've had, something old and familiar is what I need. I begin severing the old stitching that is left; the leaflets of parchment pop loose, apparently glad to be freed of their confines. When they're freed completely I begin to punch new holes for the stitching. It's repetitive work, but soothing. It takes, from what I can tell, a few hours to stitch up the small book. I finally finish gluing it into its cover again and press it into a vice to hold it during the process.

"That should last you another five hundred years or so dear." I say to it giving it a loving pat. After a quick break for lunch, even though I have no idea what time it is, I come back and start wandering the shelves again; pulling things out at random, leafing through them, and moving on. The amount of books that I actually can't read is astounding. It's a pleasant surprise; I like to know I have room to improve. After at least an hour of browsing I find something interesting. A medium sized book bound in grey leather the cover has black lettering translating roughly to _To Attain the Powers of the Sorcerer._ I pull it down and begin to leaf through it. I don't know whether to believe it or not. I've always been taught you were born with your powers. You either have them or you don't, but this book is saying that they can be gained, stolen really. It looks like you need to take them from-

"Reading something interesting?" I jump about a foot and yelp as a deep voice comes from almost right beside me. I spin on my heel, almost lose my balance, and grab the bookshelf for stability. Whipping around I see the most handsome man I've ever seen in a long black coat, his raven hair falls loose over his shoulders and almost disappears against a black Victorian style undershirt.

"Um, no. I mean, maybe. I'm not sure yet." I babble, backing away. "Don't you know it's rude to sneak up on people while they're reading?" His face is perfectly white except for a dark goatee and it betrays no emotion.

"On the contrary watching people while they're unaware is exactly how you get to know them. In this castle, you should always be wary of things sneaking up on you." I can see pearly fangs glinting as he talks. I slowly start to back away. "You haven't been here long have you? Or you would know that." He speaks with a slight accent that I can't place. He advances on me, danger in his voice. My body is screaming at me to run but instead I only hold the book against my chest like a shield.

"No I haven't, I just got here. I'm supposed to be the new librarian." _Please don't eat me._ I beg in my head, but I'm too stubborn to fall to pieces in front of him.

"A new librarian." He says slowly stalking around me. "We haven't had one of those in _ages_. Not since the lord killed our last one." His red eyes burn into me from the darkness like twin embers. Under any circumstances but these I would be a puddle at this man's feet. However, the feeling that I'm going to die is putting a damper on how attractive I find him.

"He killed the last one?" I manage to squeak out. It feels like my heart is beating out of my chest. I'm frantically trying to find a way to defend myself other than my words, but, as usual, they are my only weapons.

"Oh yes, and the one before that too. Both killed the same way, burned alive on a pile of their personal books. Amusing don't you think?" He almost growls, coming out of the shadows to stand in front of me once again. My god is he tall, and broad, his shoulders are like a wall in front of me.

"That's horrible." I manage to choke out. Damn my voice giving me away.

"Oh but I'm sure you'll last longer than they did." He says gesturing with long fingers tipped in blackened nails. "You're much nicer to look at than those old men." I'm simply speechless at this point. I can feel heat rising to my cheeks. Is he trying to hunt me or flirt with me? I back away again, trying to make my way back towards my rooms. He seems to know my thoughts. "Do not worry, The Prince of Darkness has instructed the inhabitants of this castle not to harm you… no matter _how_ tempting it may be." His last words are small comfort considering the implications that he would kill me right now if given half the chance. I go for my normal defense: sarcasm.

"Prince of Darkness? I didn't know this was Ozzy's castle. I guess it's kind of his style though." The vampire looks incredibly confused, then anger flashes across his face.

"Another has dared to use that title?" At least it seems like I've ruined whatever train of thought about eating me he was on.

"Yeah I guess, dude was metal as fuck back in the day. Also, Marilyn Manson, I think, has been called that before, but if I were in his castle I would expect much more latex and BDSM stuff and less frilly Victorian stuff." His expression is mostly confused now and less angry.

"A woman has used the title?" he continues advancing on me and I continue backing up.

"No, Marilyn Manson is a guy… kind of." I mean, he sometimes presents himself as not a guy, especially that one time…

"And this Beedyesem?" I feel heat spread across my cheeks.

"That you'll have to Google. I'm not explaining that one." I'm not going to have a BDSM discussion with the hot killer vampire. Although, I'm pretty sure vampires would be into that sort of thing?

"Google?" Every time he moves into shadow his eyes glow red from the darkness.

"Never mind. You must have been asleep a while." I mutter under my breath. My back hits the front of the desk and I scoot around it so the ancient wood is now separating us laying the book down on the desk. He glances down.

"That is an interesting book." I'm exceedingly grateful for the change of subject, even though he's still advancing on me.

"Have you read it? I've only just found it."

"Yes, I've read this and many others. Are you in possession of sorcerous power?"

"No." I say curtly.

"And very bitter about it." He says, following me still. If he weren't so terrifying I would definitely be thinking about how nicely he fills out that coat. The shirt underneath appears to be thin and I can see the hint of muscles underneath. Damn it brain, shut up.

"No, I'm not bitter. I made peace with it. It's just hard when your whole family, as far back as anyone can remember has been powerful mages, and then here you are like some dead branch on the family tree."

"Will you try to steal them then?" He presses.

"I haven't read enough to know yet." What is this guy's deal? Are there no other women in this castle to harass? Or am I just exciting because I'm fresh meat.

"Do let me know what you decide. It is a fascinating pursuit." He says, eyes boring into me. "For now I will take my leave of you. It is dusk, and the armies of the damned must advance." He bows deeply to me and in a split second a cloud of bats explodes outward and wings its way out of a high up window. I'm proud of myself that this time I refrain from shrieking like a little girl. Is everyone in this castle so strange? I wonder as I pull another book from the shelf and begin to examine it. It seems like the only problem with this one is the ink that was used was of a low quality, and has faded to almost nothing over the years. It's going to need to be re-inked to be useable. I'm not up to starting such a long task today. It will take months to make the book useable and it's in no danger of deteriorating more in the near future so I put it back. I pull out another book; this one is magical for sure. The cover itself is inlaid with silver, and is of some kind of leather I'm not familiar with. It appears to have been torn in half at some point. I think I can fix it by rebinding it in a new cover but I will need to get the same kind of leather, and silver to inlay into it; another project not for today.

Eventually I content myself with simply pulling apart a heavily water damaged book and beginning to flatten the pages with large weights. As I'm cleaning up I hear footsteps approaching the counter. I look up to see Nicholas approaching me, his silvery hair tied back at the nape of his neck with a ribbon.

"Greetings m'lady. I see you are settling in. Have you found the library to your liking?"

"The collection is unparalleled," I say, trying to at least be a little bit tactful here. "but I don't want to be here."

"And would you rather be out on the streets?" he almost quirks a smile.

"I would rather be in Arizona with my aunt." I reply shortly. I don't appreciate his mocking tone.

"Well that is not an option. We need a librarian and no one here can do the job."

"So you're going to hold me here against my will and force me to work." I say angrily.

"You have an opportunity few could even dream of. Embrace it or you may not last long here." Once again, the only options he's giving me are work here or death. I sigh defeated. I will bring it up again later.

"I found this book." I say, changing the subject. "It needs to be rebound but I don't know what kind of leather this is." I pull out the silver inlaid book from the shelf and offer it to him.

"Oh, I believe the leather is made from the hide of a werewolf. It is hard to obtain but I believe there may be a few pieces still in the castle. I will send someone to retrieve them for you, as well as what you need to make the inlay." He pauses and continues on in a quieter voice. "Your job is very important to my research. I require the library to be in good condition to be most efficient. The collection has languished without anyone to care for it."

"And what exactly is your research on?" I say re-shelving the tattered book and turning back to him.

"I suppose you would call me a biologist of sorts. I wrote many of the books here on rare and unusual creatures, under one name or another. I read your mother's text on werewolves by the way. She was an intelligent woman." Silence stretches between us then. I remember the way her hair smelled, the feeling of her pushing me on a swing.

"Are your rooms comfortable?" He breaks the awkward pause. "We don't usually have humans here that we…take care of."

"You mean humans you don't eat." I say flatly. "But yes my rooms are beautiful."

"And you have everything you need? The castle is not used to accommodating human needs."

"Um, there's food and a kitchen if that's what you mean? It's comfortable."

"I am glad, if you need anything please let me know." I don't hesitate.

"I need information. About this place, and the people in here. What are the things up there on the walkways? I met someone earlier today, how many… people live here? And how did a giant ass castle pop up in the middle of New York?" He sighs and places the tips of clawed fingers on the desk.

"I don't have the time for all of your questions. The ones patrolling the library are some of the dishonored vampires; they are completely loyal to the master and therefore are not a threat to you. They are the reason you are in no danger in this library, he has ordered that no one will harm you, and they will die to fulfill his commands. This castle is home to a few thousand vampires; many have been birthed in the last few days. There are others though, incubi, succubi, harpies, the dungeon jailers, gargoyles, skeletons. You can read about all of them in the books here. As for the castle, it goes where its master commands it, and he commanded it to appear here."

"So a giant building just appears here because he wants it?" That's just not how things work, magic be damned.

"It doesn't so much appear, it grows. The initial growth is very fast, but we've entered into the slower growth now. Once the main structure has formed, the outer wings shape more slowly."

"But you're still saying it just grew here? That's not possible, I know there's magic, but that's not possible."

"This is ancient power you know nothing of. Lord Dracula is capable of more than even I know but this is not the first time the castle has moved, and I doubt it will be the last." So this place has existed before, I have never heard mention of it though.

"Why did he bring the castle here then?"

"No one knows the workings of his mind. He has been sleeping for a hundred years. Many thought he was dead. He has also waged war before on humanity, but it has been in the wastes. It's never been in a place like this." How old is he if he's been asleep for hundreds of years? He must be positively ancient. Do vampires age? If so he must be a horrible sight, paper like skin stretched taught over bones.

"Is that what this is then? A war on humanity?" I feel very strange. How can you go to war with literally everyone? Does he really want to wipe out the human race?

"Yes, and on a scale I have never before seen. He himself marches tonight with his legions in the streets."

"So they're out there murdering people right now?" I feel strange, like many large-scale atrocities, it's hard to grasp the horror when the magnitude is so great.

"Yes, people die all the time though, you can't get hung up on it." he replies matter-of-factly. Like we're discussing the loss of a baseball game.

"Says the guy who eats people." I mutter.

"If you're going to be rude I'm not going to answer any more of your question." He doesn't really seem mad, but walks off into the shelves. I sigh and walk down the stairs and back into my rooms. Carefully locking the door behind me I make myself a sandwich, then settle in front of the fire with _To Attain the Powers of the Sorcerer._

I read late into the night; morning? I'm not sure anymore when it is. The book is fascinating, but the process dark and twisted. It involves ritually sacrificing many creatures in horrible ways to attain their abilities and bind them to yourself. I don't think I'm willing to go through that. Not to mention I have no idea where I would find a salamander, or any of them really. Are selkies even around anymore, or are they extinct? Also, there's no way to get them when locked in a library in an evil castle. So it's not even really a decision I have to make.

The sheets of the huge four-poster are cool and I fall asleep easily again. Strange, I'm in the most dangerous place I've ever been but I'm sleeping like a baby. However, strange whispers follow me in my dreams, whenever I try to hear what they are saying, they fade, but I know I need to find them.

The next few days are mostly the same; I spend time exploring the library, mending books while listening to music, and reading. The library is always empty except for the few dishonored vampires patrolling the upper catwalks. Sometimes I think I catch them watching me, it's hard to tell though. I feel like its kind of weird that there are supposedly thousands in this castle and I've only seen less than ten. Maybe vampires just don't like to read that much, or maybe they're to busy eating people and conducting this "war on humanity". Either way, even though the library is large, I'm getting a little antsy.

This morning, after a shower, I pull my hair up into a messy bun. I grab the one pair of jeans I packed and pull them on. If I get into any kind of mess, running in a skirt just isn't practical. I pull on my black combat boots and lace them tight, along with a threadbare black sweater with a skull printed on the front. I go to leave, then turn back, grabbing the protective charm from my aunt, and fasten it around my neck. It's in the form of a small silver songbird, the metal feels warm against my skin for a second, and then grows cold again.

I pull the door closed behind me and cross the library, glancing up at the guards above. I don't know if they're going to try to stop me or not. I reach the large door, no movement from above. I push on it, to my surprise, it starts to move, I put all my weight into it and it groans open. A few steps lead down into a circular stone room, at the center of which is a large brazier of blue fire. What's really striking though is the pile of human bones surrounding the brazier. Nothing says evil castle like a pile of human bones. I descend the few steps and begin to skirt around the outside of the room. The bones are concentrated to the center and I can easily avoid them, luckily I'm not squeamish. The door to the library has pillars on either side of the steps, on which two carved snake women climb with clawed hands. There are many candles around the edges of the room lighting it softly and the effect is somehow both beautiful and terrifying. The room is very quiet and no matter how much I try my steps echo slightly. There are three other doors, one opposite the library door, and the other two to either side. A metal gate bars the doorway across from the library and it seems like there is some kind of shrine inside. There is a large statue and many candles behind the bars. It looks chained shut though, and like it's a dead end. I reach the door to the left and it's not locked, or even closed. One side of the door is hanging slightly crooked on its hinges and leaves about a foot gap between it and the good door. I peek through the gap and see a somewhat nondescript hallway. Nondescript for this castle anyways. There is a half destroyed red carpet and columns of stone. There are no windows but where they would be are nooks in the walls with candles, dripping rivers of wax down the stone. The hallway seems deserted and I squeeze between the doors to enter it. I walk quietly down the hall; the carpet is much better for sneaking than the stone floor in the other room.

After three more rooms, and five more hallways I am starting to wonder if the castle is completely deserted. I've stopped trying to hide and now I'm just wandering around. Eventually I realize something very scary. I'm probably lost. After another fifteen minutes I'm definitely lost. Shit. Dumb idiot. So excited to explore the castle you forgot to make a map. Now you're going to starve to death in this deserted maze. I continue berating myself as I wander. No common sense, you deserve to die now. It's like you've never seen a horror movie.

The next room is another circular chamber, but much larger. I step out onto the beautiful marble floor. It's an intricate pattern of black and white stone, made even more beautiful by the moonlight streaming through the high windows. A balcony, held up by gothic arches, surrounds the room almost completely. I don't see a way up so I wander under one of the arches, trailing my fingers over the smooth stone, then out into the middle of the room. The craftsmanship is incredible. On par with the palaces and churches of the Italian Renaissance. I stare up at the pointed windows with the moonlight streaming through them and wish I could simply turn into a bird like Aunt Seraphine and fly away. I sigh and turn back to the door I came in but before I can reach it I hear a deep voice echo through the room.

"Wandering alone is dangerous little lamb." I spin around to see the man from the library staring down at me from the balcony, an open door behind him. His long black nails rest on the pale white marble of the railing. How did I not hear him come in? Has he been watching me this whole time? The idea of him watching me marvel over and caress the stonework is a bit embarrassing.

"And creeping up on me is still rude." I reply, now backing toward the door I entered through. He leaps from the balcony and lands on his feet like it's nothing; dark cloak swirling around him. The movement is inherently predatory, as is all of him. As he lifts his gaze his eyes meet mine and I feel like I'm a rabbit frozen in the gaze of a wolf.

"Such a fragile creature," He advances on me slowly. I hear the door behind me slam shut. "You really would do better to stay where you're safe. What if you had met with something dangerous on your wanderings?" I have the feeling that I have, indeed, met with something dangerous.

"I would be ok. I'm under the lord's protection, remember?" I try to say it with much more confidence than I have. He's very close to me now, towering over me. His shirt is one of those old fashioned tunics that have laces. They're hanging undone, conspicuously showing a strip of pale muscled chest. My breath catches in my throat.

"That only goes so far. Many here are not as… disciplined as I am." I try to imagine what he would feel like. Is he warm like a person, or cold? Soft or hard like stone? Get a grip girl, you're probably about to die. My brain chides.

"So you're disciplined then? For not killing me right here and now?" I try my hardest to take on a tone of distain.

"Oh my dear." He's beside me now, almost whispering in my ear. I'm frozen; unable to move; I will my feet to move, my head to turn even but I cant. I feel his closeness to me like a fire on my back. "I wouldn't kill you right here and now, but I would make you wish I had." He moves around me and I'm now looking into his crimson eyes. Suddenly whatever force is holding me breaks and I can move again.

"Is all you care about killing me?" Crossing my arms across my chest looking at him accusingly.

"No. It's just a pleasing thought." His cape whispers over the marble as he moves. "Did you enjoy the book you were reading?" I can see his fangs gleaming in the light from the windows.

"It was… informative, but I don't think I will be using it." He's looking at me intently and I start to squirm. It feels like he's looking inside me.

"A pity, I think you have the potential to be a powerful sorceress." Heat rises to my cheeks.

"Um, thanks? I guess we'll never know." I turn to go back through the door I came in.

"Never say never." He murmurs from behind me. I ignore him. I need to get away from this guy. He's so sexy and I could almost forget that I'm in danger. I push on the door and it slowly grinds open. Trying to retrace your steps is not as easy as it sounds. God I wish this place were on Google maps. I pull out my phone. Nope, no signal. I glance back, it seems like he's decided not to follow me, or if he is I can't tell.

I think I'm at least closer to the library than where I was an hour ago, but it's hard to tell. I could be going in circles for all I know. I'm starting to get tired. I don't usually do this much walking. I still haven't seen anyone or anything in the castle, apart from my undead mystery man, but now I think I'm starting to hear things moving far off. I reach a hallway that has some tables and chairs against the wall and I gladly sink into one for a break. It's made of hard wood and is not at all comfortable; maybe I would be more comfy if I just sat on the floor. I try that; no definitely the chair is better. I sit back down and sigh. Maybe I should have asked him for directions. Maybe I should have asked him for his name. I'm not sure if common courtesies apply to talking with the undead who want to eat you. I slouch lower in the chair and sigh heavily. Maybe fifteen minutes pass and I start to hear a sound from my left; some kind of skittering, or the clicking of something on stone. I peer down the corridor, trying to make out anything in the dimness, but it's impossible.

The noise stops, then the skittering speeds up, coming this way. Out of the darkness comes a pale, sinewy beast. It has leathery bat wings on its back and its face is like that of a bat. The nose is pushed back, the ears are pointed, and its mouth is gaping. I jolt up from the chair and bolt back down the hall. Before I can get more than ten feet something moves past me, flinging me into the wall. I scream, my head hits the stone and I see stars. _This is it, it's got me and it's going to eat me. Please let it be quick._ I'm too dazed to even move. I hear a crash and a horrible snarl, then a wet squelching sound. But the seconds pass and the only pain I'm feeling is in my head. I sit up gingerly, cradling my head in my hand and look back down the hall. A dark shape is standing over the crumpled pale form of the thing that was chasing me. It lifts something above its head. _What is that?_ The dark figure tips its head back and squeezes it. Oh god, it's the things heart. He's squeezing the blood out of its heart. I get up, staggering a little bit, my head really is not feeling good. I begin backing down the hallway away from the carnage. The figure turns and I recognize the mystery vampire that I can't stop running into. His eyes look like burning coals as he locks me in his gaze. His pale chest and shirt are now covered in blood running down from his mouth. He moves almost so fast that I can't see it. I let out a yelp when suddenly he's inches away from me. I try to move away but I'm stopped by an iron grip on my shoulder.

"Please no..." It sounded stronger in my head but it comes out as a whimper.

"I'm not going to hurt you." The deep voice comes from above me now. "I told you it was dangerous to wander." I'm level with his blood-covered chest and I have to tip my head back to see him. The blood is slick over his neck and face. "You're injured." He murmurs, loosening his grip on my forearm. My hand is still on my temple and I can feel it's growing sticky. His long clawed fingers close around my wrist and electricity flows through me. My heart pounds against my ribcage with his touch. His skin is cool, and I feel like mine is on fire where his flesh meets mine. He gently pulls my hand away from my head.

"It looks worse than it is," He says, running a finger under it. "but I would hate to let it scar a face like yours." The blood rises to my cheeks, betraying my feelings. He's hot, but obviously super dangerous. Stay away girl!

"I'm sure… it will be fine." I eventually manage to stutter out. I'm incredibly distracted however by the fact that he's still holding my wrist in one hand, and his other has moved from the cut to running the back of his fingers down the side of my face. He moves closer to me; I can feel his breath stirring my hair. His dark locks form curtains on either side of us. I think if he gets any closer I'm literally going to catch on fire. My heart is beating out of control, and not entirely just from fear. I need to stop this; nothing good can come of being close to him. He's dangerous; he killed that thing and pulled its heart out.

"You smell so good." His voice is barely above a whisper but I can feel his cool breath inches from the cut. Alarm bells are blaring in my head. Can he control his bloodlust? I don't know how much vampires can stop themselves around blood. I jerk back from him, but I don't get far considering my arm is still in his clawed hand.

"Ah well." He says, eyeing me closely. He stays quiet for so long I begin to squirm under his gaze. I'm desperate to break the intensity of the moment.

"Thank you… I think you just saved my life." I manage to get out. His grip on my arm lessens and I pull away.

"Yes." He says simply still watching me. I drop my gaze to the floor. His boots are leather, up to his knees, and they look like they have layers of armor on the shins. Who is this man that seems to be following me?

"I don't even know your name." I say quietly, still focusing on his feet.

"I know yours, Rose Lowery. Mine is not important at the moment." Hearing my name in that dark sinful voice sends feelings flooding through me that I can't ignore. It seems like keeping his name from me is part of him keeping the upper hand. We lapse into silence once more.

"I don't know how to get back to the library." I look back up at him. The blood on his face is a stark reminder of how much danger I'm still in.

"I expect you don't." He says, matter-of-factly, almost mocking me. He's not going to make this easy on me.

"Can you help me get back to the library please?" I meet his gaze again.

"Yes, but what will you do for me?" _Ugh, are you serious? What in the hell does he want?_ His thick black hair frames his pale, blood-covered face, but his expression betrays nothing of his motivation. One thing is certain I can't stay out here; I have to get back.

"What do you want from me?" I press my hand back to my throbbing temple.

"Heal first, then I will let you know." He says. "Let me take you back now." His movement is astonishingly fast. Before I know what's going on he's wrapping an arm around my back and pulling me into his chest. It's like being pinned between two walls; but a lot more appealing. Until I realize that my cheek is pressed into his bloody shirt. I try to pull away but as I start to move I feel the horrible whirlpool start to swirl around me. I'm pulled into a crushing void, cold and suffocating. When the churning around me finally stops I realize my hands are balled in his shirt for dear life. I pull away immediately and look up to see one corner of his mouth twitch upward. It's the first time I've ever seen him show any sort of feeling, but I don't like it. My discomfort is what has caused him to show amusement. We're not in the library, but my little living room. My cheek is sticky with blood and I scrub at it with the rough fabric of my sweater. It's at least somewhat effective.

"I don't think I should thank you for that before I know what you want in return." I finally finish scrubbing at my cheek. His silhouette starts to bleed into the darkness, turning into a black mist.

"Clever girl." I hear as a kind of whisper, as he dissipates into nothingness.

I head toward the bathroom to thoroughly clean myself; pulling off my protection charm as I go and throwing it at the wall. Damn useless piece of shit.

"My lord, must you toy with her?" Nicholas keeps his tone respectful.

"You bring me a new, unique, plaything and expect me not to have a little fun with it?" Says the dark figure on the throne. His armored boots stretch out before him lazily; long blackened nails curl around the arm of the throne. His face is cast in shadow.

"I expect I will have the use of a librarian for more than a week before you kill her or drive her mad." He answers curtly.

"Don't worry, I'm having too much fun to finish this little game just yet." He replies. Red eyes burn in the darkness.


	4. Chapter 4

It's been a few days and I haven't tried to repeat my little expedition outside of the library. Almost dying has caused me to be a little more cautious; also my temple is a painful reminder to stay where I'm safe. Nicholas has visited a few more times, and I've requested a few magical ingredients from him to brew a simple salve to get rid of the cut. Just because I can't cast magic doesn't mean I can't make a damn good potion. It's mostly done now, steaming over a small burner on the front desk of the library. The smell is a cross between aloe and burning compost. It's not pleasant but I know it works. I remember sitting on the kitchen counter, legs swinging, as my mother applies this same potion to a neighbor woman whose husband had attacked her with a knife. She had a large few-day-old cut on her face, it was sure to scar without help but with faithful application of the salve it healed to nothing in a few days. We got Christmas cookies from her for years after that. The poor lady was able to go about her life without people staring at her face.

I pull the last small piece of dried mandrake leaves from a pouch and begin to grind it in the mortar and pestle. It really needs to be a powder for the best results, and even when dry the leaves are tough.

"You any good at that?" A female voice asks. I jump and look up to face a very scantily dressed woman. Her sleek black hair is tucked behind two small curled reddish horns.

"Does everyone here creep up on you?" I ask angrily. She's dressed in a tight red corset with black trimming and lacing. Her hips are swathed in a diaphanous red silk wrap over black panties. As I continue to stare down her thighs turn into furred legs ending in cloven hooves. I'm fairly sure she's a succubus. I've only read a few slim descriptions of them, but she's definitely not a satyr. If she were, she would have a furry little tail, not the skinny fleshy one flicking back and forth.

"Sorry." She laughs, and it's a high playful tinkle, like wind chimes. "Name's Lilixia. But you can call me Lili." She extends a slender, graceful hand, with red glossy nails. I grasp her hand across the desk; it's very soft, but surprisingly strong.

"It's nice to meet you Lili. I'm Rose. You're only the third person I've met here." Her eyes are so pale they're almost white. It's very disconcerting.

"Really?" she looks a little shocked. "It must be because everyone is out raising hell." I don't think she's dangerous, at least not to women. I hope.

"Which begs the question why are you here?" I ask, going back to grinding the leaves.

"I was bringing this back." she holds up a small red bound book. "I tried it, but I guess I'm no good at potion making." She hands me the book. Gold lettering reads _Amorous Philters._

"A love potion? But aren't you…" I don't want to say it and be offensive. I don't know if it's offensive.

"A succubus? Yes. Why would I need a love potion? My powers only work on humans. I used to be Lord William Vinton's favorite, but now my sweet William doesn't want me anymore. He's preoccupied with Lord Dracula's return and doesn't have time for me. " She looks genuinely very sad. "That's why I was asking if you're any good at brewing."

"I'm decent. Which one were you trying to make?"

"Page fifty two. It's supposed to be a beautiful clear light pink. Mine was a green sludge." I flip to the page, it's a potion for renewing affection; much easier than creating it in the first place. The ingredients look fairly standard from what I've read: a hair of the target of the potion, a female mandrake root, rose petals, honey, fairy tears, a drop of blood from the one the target should love again, etc.

"Listen, I know I can brew this, but there's a problem. I've literally just used the last of the mandrake in the whole castle according to Nicholas." I go back to grinding the leaves.

"You would make it for me though?" she leans over the desk eagerly.

"I mean, yeah, sure, but I need a little help in return. I want to know everything you know about this castle. I feel like I'm completely in the dark here."

"Just talk to you? Deal!" She grins from ear to ear, revealing two sets of tiny fangs.

"What about the mandrake problem?" I press.

"Oh, that's easy. I don't know how to harvest them but there are plenty in the castle gardens. You just have to trap the damn things." She flicks her hair back with a delicate hand.

"Well, I know how to harvest them, but the last time I left the library I think I almost got killed. I'm not eager to do that again." I scrape the powder from the mortar into the steaming cauldron. It immediately turns from a brownish color to a nice pale green.

"I can take you." She says "It will be totally safe. Like you said, everyone is gone." I stir it a few times then turn the burner off.

"Listen Lilli. I'm up for it, but, not to be rude, I'm not sure you can protect me from the vampire thing that was after me."

"Yes, but I wont need to protect you if they never come across us. I can get us there quite quickly using the back passages." I dip a finger into the still hot concoction. With my other hand I pull my hair back from my forehead and begin rubbing the gel-like substance onto my cut.

"And you promise not to try to attack me either?" The mixture immediately starts to tingle on and around the scab as I rub harder.

"I don't want to attack you, I like men." Thank goodness. I'm glad I was right. I'm skeptical that we will be perfectly safe, but the gardens sound like a great place to know where to get to if you wanted to make an escape via your aunt who knows how to turn into a giant golden eagle.

"Okay, I'll do it. I'm going to need a silver dagger for the harvesting, and you're going to need to hold it down, and we should have something to put over its head to keep it from doing that life draining thing they supposedly do."

"Yes, they do that, and it's pretty bad from what I've heard. How soon can you be ready?"

"Oh, you want to do this now? I need to clean this up and bottle it. Also I need to change out of this." I say, indicating my green velvet skirt. "Not exactly gardening attire."

"I can be back here in twenty minutes with the knife and a bag for the head. Will you be ready then?"

"You really don't waste time do you?" I sigh and begin spooning the cooling potion into a glass bottle. Am I really agreeing to this?

"Not when my favorite lay is on the line honey." She gives me a wink and flounces off, tail swishing.

Ok then, we're going to the evil castle garden to kill a sentient life-draining plant to make a potion to enslave the heart of a vampire lord. Just normal girl stuff. I know mandrakes are sentient, but they're plants right? It's not wrong to kill plants, especially if it's for a good cause; like saving my life possibly.

In twenty minutes I'm back at the desk in jeans and the white blouse I was wearing with the skirt earlier, but I've rolled the sleeves up in anticipation of possibly getting messy. I've also pulled my hair up; it's just going to get in the way. Lilli is good to her word and arrives almost exactly twenty minutes after she left, still dressed like she's straight out of a strip club. It doesn't seem very practical for chasing down an angry plant but whatever.

"I'm so glad that you agreed to help me Rose. I've been at my wits end over William. The past month it's only been 'Lord Dracula this' and 'politics that.' He has no interest in anything except where he falls in the ranks now that Lord Dracula is back. Everyone is just trying to garner favor even though they all celebrated being on top when he died last time."

"And you're not interested in politics or rank." I ask as we walk to the large door.

"Only in as much as it affords me access to more men, but much of it doesn't." She pushes the door open with surprising ease for someone of her stature.

"How long have you lived here?" I ask as we come down the steps into the circular room again. Lilli's hooves make soft clicks on the stone.

"I lived in the castle the last time Lord Dracula was around, and I was in it then for about a hundred years. When he died the castle crumbled in a matter of days. As soon as he and it came back we all knew. It's the center of our world, so I returned. I like being where the action is. Also William was here."

"So he's only been around for a month or so, the same with the castle? How does it look like this then?" I gesture to the ancient crumbling stonework.

"I think the best guess is that the castle is it's own pocket dimension out of time, but we really don't know. Maybe you should ask Lord Dracula." She leads me down a passage and a spiraling staircase.

"Yeah, except I haven't even seen the guy. I told you, I've been here a week and you're only the third person I've met other than Nicholas and this weird guy who thinks it's funny to pop up and scare me."

"He's not two feet tall with a round white face is he?" she asks, pushing open another much smaller door.

"Ummm, no should I be worried about this two foot tall moon faced man?"

"Oh, no he's the Chupacabra. He's harmless, just likes to play pranks is all. I thought maybe he's just having fun sneaking up on you."

"No, this guy is tall, dark, and handsome in the extreme."

"Ooo, you should do something about that then." She gives me a suggestive look.

"Yeah, except I don't fancy being his dinner." I say as we descend another staircase.

"I mean, that's a problem you're going to run into with a lot of the guys in this castle." We lapse into silence for a minute or so, there's the sound of footsteps coming from far down a hallway and we move quickly to get far away from the noise.

"What is Dracula like?" I ask when I feel like it's been quite for long enough. "I've read the novel Dracula, is that accurate?"

"I haven't read it so I don't know. He's very handsome, but very cruel… and unhappy I think."

"Is that why he's trying to kill everyone then? Because he's depressed?"

"I don't know why he is this time. It may just be his longstanding vendetta against humanity, or he might just be looking for something to do." She shrugs her shoulders, "I've heard he begrudges his eternity. Other vampires can be killed, he can't, not permanently anyway."

"So he's just a bored asshole?"

"Pretty much." Lilli giggles "We're here though, we should focus on the mandrake." She pushes open a big metal door with scrolling rose brambles and it creaks open, letting in a blast of cool night air.

"How are we here?" The library has to be at least fifty floors up and we only came down about five flights!"

"You have to stop thinking of the castle as a normal building. I wanted to go to the garden; the castle knew that and acquiesced. I only needed to go the general right direction, which was down. As long as its master doesn't want to keep you in limbo you will find your way around fairly quickly."

We've exited the building now into what seems to be a maze of tall hedgerows flanked by flowerbeds.

"They wander around the garden," Lilli wispers. "We just have to try to sneak up on one." I unfold the sack and open it, nodding to Lilli, and we continue to creep forward.

The soft earth of the path makes us completely noiseless, but I can't help think of what else could stalk around this maze unheard. The flowerbeds are filled with dark magical plants and fungi and I'm tempted to ask her to wait and let me pick some. Some of them I know are extremely dangerous. I cover my nose and mouth when we slink past a bed of devil's mistflowers, whose spores can drive you mad if they are inhaled. Devil's mist expels them if the plant is brushed against, but if you take proper precautions in harvesting the petals they make a powerful sleeping drug.

Lilli turns a corner then almost jumps back on top of me.

"There right around the corner." She hisses to me. Pointing to the left. She peeks around the hedge again and pulls back. "There are seven. We're never going to be able to get one away from the group. I say we run in, bag one, and run away. We can dissect it later. A group this big is too dangerous for us to stay in the garden after we take one."

"Okay, can you run out and make them all look at you, then I'll bag the nearest female while it's distracted?" She nods. "Okay, but then we run like hell." She nods again. I watch as she creeps out and around the corner. I peek around the hedge to see her run past the group of mandrakes milling around in a grassy opening.

"Hey plants, over here." She waves her arms. All the mandrakes immediately begin their slow shuffle towards her, trying to get into range to attack. Three of the group are female, and one is fairly close. I run up with the sack, hole to the ground and lunge at it. It lets out a horrible shriek when I pop the sack over it, making all the others turn towards the noise. They immediately start advancing on me instead of Lilli as I scoop up the now struggling sack and heft it over my shoulder. I run back the way we came, hoping Lilli is behind me. The other mandrakes are making the same horrible screaming that the one in the sack is. After about fifteen feet Lilli catches up to me and takes the lead back to the castle.

The horrible little creature in the sack doesn't let up with its caterwauling the entire way back to the library. We run the whole way and when we finally shut the door. I sink down onto the floor, completely out of breath.

"We need to shut that thing up." Lilli shouts over it. The few vampires guarding the library are peering over the railings at the source of the noise.

I drag the squirming bag over toward the counter and push aside some books to make room for the damned thing. I turn around to see Lilli holding a ball gag.

"I'm not going to ask where you got that. Just get ready to put it on this thing." I shout.

I open the sack and thrust my hand inside, grabbing the first thing I come in contact with. It's like a soft branch, or a leg with bark. I drag it out along the counter and Lilli pounces, shoving the ball into its howling mouth; finally, peace and quiet. It's reduced to a few muffled noises. She grabs its twiggy arms and holds it relatively still as it scratches at her arms.

"Get on with the dissecting." She grunts. "It's stronger than it looks."

"Okay, okay, I'm going." I grab the little knife and pin one of its legs down. The books say the dissection of the root from the body has to take place with the creature still alive so I just start hacking at where it's pelvis would be if it was a person. I keep sawing with the blade even though it's struggling harder now. Suddenly a noxious green goop squirts out, all over both of us.

"Ugh! What is this stuff?" Lilli moans.

"I think I just accidentally ruptured its sap bladder." I say, wiping my eyes with the back of my arm. "I was really hoping to save that." The thick green sap stinks to high heaven.

"On the bright side," I say, cutting in again. "It's supposed to be great for your skin."

"I don't care if it makes me irresistible." Lilli complains. "It smells like rotting bugs."

Thankfully it's stopped moving now and Lilli releases her hold and begins to use the silk around her waist to try to wipe the goop off. I push the knife back into it. It's like sawing through a pineapple, or an under ripe melon. I finally make the last cut, separating the roots from the trunk.

"Lilli, would you start pulling the leaves off? I'm going to need to dry those." She starts to pluck them off, still occasionally wiping sap from her face. I start peeling the bark off the roots and after ten minutes I'm left with a pale female mandrake root. I plop it in the bottom of the clean cauldron and pore in the tablespoon of honey over it. I turn on the burner very low to start the process of forcing the root to expel its juices, which are the base for the potion.

I turn back to Lilli. "I actually think that went pretty well." I say, smiling. "You've got plant goop in your hair." She replies sourly.

Eventually we get the whole plant deconstructed and part ways to try to get the stench out of our hair and clothes.

It takes me over an hour in the large claw foot tub scrubbing at the sap, which seems to stick to everything and is, apparently, dissolved by nothing. That damn sap sack is something I'll be much more careful of next time.


	5. Chapter 5

When I leave my rooms the next day Lilli is already there. She's dragged a chair up to in front of the counter and is watching the flame below the cauldron with an absentminded expression; cradling her head in her hands. She's wearing a similar outfit but in pink this time.

"It's not going to go any faster if you watch it." I say, plopping down into my chair behind the desk. "It still needs another hour before I add the rose petals." I pull out a book that needs rebinding and a razorblade and start carefully slicing the stitching.

"I know." She sighs, "I just don't want anything to go wrong. I don't want to have to take another week to do brew this again, or kill another mandrake."

"Don't worry, it's a simple potion, I shouldn't have trouble. You probably just messed up the timing. If you rushed it that could make it go wrong." I give the threads another slice.

"I rushed it." she replies, tossing her shiny ebony hair over her shoulder. "I wanted it to be done so badly."

"Well, you'll just have to be patient this time. We can pass the time with you keeping up your end of the bargain. Tell me about the castle?"

"Well," she begins, "Like I said, the best theory is that it's a place out of time and space, that the outside is in New York right now, but, the inside has never moved. It seems like it adapts and changes with the times. It has outlets some places now. It also seems like it came back in sort of disrepair, and it's been… healing? I don't know. It's like when Lord Dracula was gone it deteriorated, like any building, like maybe it was dead too, and now it's alive again and it's slowly healing. Three days ago the spiral staircase to the north tower was crumbled and broken, now it's fine. Even the carpets seem to slowly be mending themselves."

"What kinds of rooms are there, other than the library?"

"Oh, there are loads of rooms. I live fairly close by in this wing; there are hundreds of bedrooms, and things like that in all the wings. Most of the Incubi and Succubi live in this wing, which used to be Carmilla's. Also, there are the laboratories and the moon terrace in this wing. There's the city of the damned, which is the dungeons and torture chambers of the castle, and that has hundreds of rooms within it. The Chupacabra has a shop down there also. There's the Bernhard's Wing, which has the ballroom and the old chapel. The Overlook tower is the tallest tower in the castle; near it is the greenhouse and the theater. You've seen the maze gardens already, or at least a little bit of them. There's the kitchens, and the great dining hall, the observatory, it tends to move around more than the other rooms, also the clock tower, and of coarse, the throne room."

"And all those rooms move around?" I ask incredulously.

"Kind of, the castle has a consciousness, like organs in a body some of the rooms move around a little, or like the pieces in a clock. Like I said it's not a normal three-dimensional place. If the castle wants to let you go somewhere you will get there, or if it doesn't, you wont." She pulls out a bottle of hot pink nail polish from between her cleavage and begins to coat her claw like nails.

"So that's the reason I wandered around for hours and couldn't get back here? The castle didn't like me?"

"It's not so much that it likes or dislikes you, it's that it doesn't advance it, or it's master's wishes to let you get back here."

"So the castle thought it was funny to let me get almost eaten by a vampire?"

"Who knows." She shrugs. "No one can fathom why anything happens here. Except, Lord Dracula himself." One of the stitches tears a particularly fragile page and I curse under my breath.

"What about him? You told me a little bit yesterday, but, it wasn't much."

"I told you he's cruel. You'd do well to steer clear of him. You'll live longer that way. He's the oldest vampire there is. The most powerful vampire there is. He wields powerful magics and is an unparalleled fighter."

"Well I've steered clear of him so far. I haven't even seen him."

"Keep it that way, you seem like a decent girl, he likes to break people in the worst way possible, especially decent people… especially women."

"Um, don't you like… do that too?" I ask cautiously.

"I seduce men, I feed of their life force, I don't destroy who they are from the ground up. He will break down everything you are, strip away everything you have, and destroy your mind. I think you could be my friend, and I wouldn't even wish that on an enemy."

"Noted, avoid him at all costs. What about Nicholas? He's the one who brought me here." I finish cutting the stitches and start threading my needle to start re-sewing the binding.

"He's just obsessed with his research. Of course he's a vampire and kills people and everything, but it's not what drives him. All he does is research and write. He will probably be your best defense here. You're helping his research, and that's the most important thing to him." My phone buzzes loudly, vibrating across the desk.

"That's the timer for adding the rose petals." I turn off the buzzing phone and move the disassembled book aside.

"Seven red rose petals, dried and crushed." I say, pulling out the rose petal jar from under the desk along with the mortar and pestle.

"Also, I'm going to need his hair pretty soon after this step, you have it on you right?" I start to grind the petals, methodically working the pestle.

"Yeah, I've got it, she says, pulling out a small books and opening it, to reveal a single hair held between the pages.

"Good, hold onto that, I'll need it in a few minutes." I make sure the roses are in a fine powder, no chunks, before I pour it into the simmering cauldron. The smoke takes on the pleasant smell of roses as I stir it.

"Ok put the hair in now." I direct. Lili leans across the desk and drops the hair into the bubbling pot. The steam immediately turns acrid and black.

"Oh no, that doesn't look good." Lili moans.

"No it's ok, it's burning off the hair but the essence will bind to the potion. Just give it a sec and it'll be fine." I stop stirring and grab the pair of tongs to remove the dried husk of the mandrake root. It's expelled all of its fluid and is now small and shriveled as I pull it out and throw it in the trash.

"That's it for the day." I say putting the tongs away. "Do you want some tea? I'm feeling a little dry."

"Sure, with some honey if you don't mind." She says, moving to painting her the nails on her other hand now. I quickly prepare some catnip tea in my little kitchen. I used to drink it with Duke sometimes and now the familiarity is comforting. I wish I knew if he made it out. As I make my way back up to the library an idea forms. I hand Lili her tea.

"Lili, are there ways to communicate with people outside the castle?" I try to ask as innocently as possible. "My cell phone doesn't get reception here and there's no wifi."

"You want out." She says, matter-of-factly sipping her tea. I decide to be straight with her.

"I sent word to my aunt when the city was overrun and I was trapped in my apartment. I want to know it got to her safely. I want to know if she came, or tried to get into the city, if she's nearby."

"Do you know what they would do to me if I helped you to try to get out of here? I can't risk my life, I'm sorry." She seems genuine enough.

"I'm worried my aunt might be storming the city, she might get hurt, or be hurt already. If my messenger got out… if not I'm the reason he's dead too."

"I think I could let you know if he's alive or not. I can't do it, but there are plenty of people here who can. Do you have something of his?"

"Yes!" I exclaim, and almost run downstairs. I pull out my clothes and start combing over them; it doesn't take long before I find a cat hair stuck to my sweater. Triumphantly I carry it back to Lili.

"Here." I hold out the cat hair to her. She takes it between her pink nails and squints looking at it.

"You sent a _cat_ to get help?" She laughs.

"He's more than a cat." I feel very defensive of Duke. "I mean, almost all the time he's a cat, but he can be almost anything. He's been with me since I can remember, and he's reliable. If he could get my message out he would have… I just don't know if he made it." I can't imagine life without Duke, he has to be fine, he just has to.

"You're really attached to him." She says quietly. "I'll be back in a few, hopefully with the news you want." She takes her last sip of tea and rises from her chair; her hooves click on the floor as she leaves.

The next forty-five minutes are the longest of my life. I'm fidgeting with the book pages, not really working on them, aligning and re-aligning them. I jump up when I hear Lili's footsteps coming up the steps to the library.

"Is he alright?" I shout as soon as I see her.

"He's alive." She shouts back with a smile. "It looks like he's somewhere safe."

I let out a sigh. My biggest worry is over. Poor Duke is safe. I would just die if he had gotten hurt on my account; he's truly a gentle soul.

"Thank you Lili, I really owe you for that." I say jumping out from behind the desk and hugging her. "He means the world to me." I say, muffled into her hair.

"It was nothing Rose. I'm glad your friend is safe." We break apart awkwardly and I scoot back behind the desk.

We continue to chat the rest of the day. I learn some about the politics of this new world. It's a backstabbing social order, everyone serving their superiors, but at the same time trying to usurp them. Dracula coming back has shaken everything up. It's a system that hasn't had a king for a century, and suddenly the big dog is back in town. The lords who were on top for a long time are feeling unstable now that their master is back, and all of them are trying to garner favor. Lili's William is one of the lords vying for favor. From what she says he's not a top lord, but a second tier one, but he hopes to garner favor and move up in the ranks. She seems to truly care about him, which I can't help but find odd. I thought succubi were only focused on sex, which seems to be a part of it, but she genuinely seems to have affection for him.

Eventually we part ways, I need dinner, and sleep. I forgot to eat lunch in the midst of all our conversation and now I'm starving. Somehow I never have to get new food. It just seems to be replenished at some point. I pull out chicken from the fridge and start breading it to bake. With my hands busy my mind wanders. Being in the library isn't bad, except for the fact I can't leave. I wonder what's happening in the outside world, did most of the people get out of the city ok? What are they calling this on the news? How are they trying to explain the constant darkness and the demons pouring out of the city? Is the military involved yet? I haven't heard anything like fighting since the first night. It's a never-ending cycle in my head. I have no new information to add, so I'm stuck wondering and thinking in circles. Eventually I make my way to bed after a few hours of reading. I found a book on succubi and incubi and thought I should read up on them, especially if most of them live in this wing of the castle like Lili said. Before I go to sleep, I pull the picture of my mom out of my bag.

"I miss you mommy." I whisper to the photo, then turn out the light and fall asleep.


	6. Chapter 6

I'm really sorry for how fucked up the format was, I didn't realize!

When I make it up to the library Lilli isn't there. It's not like I was expecting her to be there, but it's been nice to have someone to talk too, or at least to have someone to talk to that isn't insinuating that they're going to eat me. I prepare for a quiet day; I've decided to start the re-inking of one of the books. I pull out an inkwell and a set of calligraphy pens and put my music on shuffle. The day passes uneventfully and I'm glad for the quiet. Calligraphy is very relaxing in its measured, slow, progress. A few hours in I add more honey and the fairy tears to the potion, but other than that it's calligraphy all day. I have no idea what time it is but my back and arms are stiff and I'm aching for something to do. Even after Lili's revelations about the castle I'm still itching to know more. Knowledge is power after all, and it's unfortunately the only kind of power I possess. I've been speed-reading some of the books on vampires here. It seems the one that came after me in the hallway must have been young, maybe even a New Yorker turned in the past week. They don't look like people again for a long time after turning, which means Nicholas and the mystery vampire must be very old. I have got to come up with a better name for him. Also, silver can harm them. I pull out the silver knife that Lili brought me from under the desk and weight it in my palm. It's small, but it's a defense I didn't have before. Assets: a protection charm that probably doesn't work, a silver knife, and my brain. Liabilities: A castle full of deadly dark creatures, which can change its shape to keep me going in endless circles and a dark vampire lord I have yet to glimpse at the center of it all. I am in way over my head. My incessant curiosity is, however, not satisfied with just the library. Even though I've learned more in this past week than in the past year, I can't learn everything I need from books. I'm either going to get out of here, or I'm going to die, and I'm not getting out of here by staying in the library. I put the knife into the pocket of my green, velvet skirt and close the book I've been inking. It's time to try this again.

I push open the heavy library door; the room outside looks oddly less decrepit than it did a few days ago. What Lili said about the castle moving and recovering itself seems to be true. Stone pillars that were crumbling before are now almost back together. I walk around the pile of bones in the center. I don't really know how this works, but here goes nothing.

"Um, castle…" I say, I can't believe I'm talking to the castle. "I want to go to the Moon Terrace." The castle is silent. "If that's ok, I mean." A candle sputters to my left, but there's no other noise. All right, only one way to find out. I push open the door to my left and begin walking. The hall is quiet and my ankle boots make no sound on the threadbare carpet as I walk. The hall leads to a door, which leads to another hallway, which eventually spills out into a circular room about thirty feet across with a large wooden double door. The ceiling is high and arches into a vault with intricate carvings; it's too dark to see exactly what they are in the shadows above. I walk up to the large double doors and push on one side. The door easily swings open and I'm shocked by the blast of cold air that hits me. The inside of the castle is cool, but this air is the cold of a fall night. The view before me is absolutely breathtaking. Steps lead down from me to an enormous semicircular stone balcony. I'm immediately drawn outward onto the terrace. The sky is clear and an almost full moon illuminates the castle below. The halls and turrets stretch out before me like a field of jagged stone and metal flowers. I reach the edge of the balcony and lean over the wide stone railing. The building falls hundreds of feet below me into flying buttresses so large I'm sure they themselves must contain rooms. The castle continues on to meet the water of what must be the East River. The skyline is unfamiliar though. Where square modern building once were there now stand ancient spires and impossible walkways, shining like ebony jewels in the moonlight. I lean onto the cold rough stone of the railing, enjoying the way the wind coming up the side of the building tosses my hair.

I've never been afraid of heights. Many would find this a vertigo inducing view, but as I lean farther over the edge to look down I'm only reminded of when I was younger. My mom and aunt had taken me out west, we were rock climbing up to the top of a butte in the middle of the desert. I remember getting to the top, and immediately wriggling forward on my belly, sand and dirt scratching my stomach, to hang my head over the edge of the sheer cliff. To feel the wind climbing up the rock face to meet me, and the sun so hot and close to my back made me feel like I was flying. We had a picnic up there, on top of the mountain, and it felt like I could feel the whole of the earth breathing and moving around me. I can almost feel it again now, but this is different. That day I could feel life, heat, and movement. This is cold; it's the feeling of a frozen forest that hasn't seen the sun in weeks, still and silent as death. A shiver runs through me and I regret the capped sleeve blouse I'm wearing. The late fall air warns of frost soon to come. I'm struck by the stark beauty of the night, like the beauty of the winter forest, perfect in its stillness.

I don't know how long I stay there looking out on the dark castle, but eventually I realize I'm not alone. It starts as goose bumps running down my arms, and continues into a prickle at the base of my neck. I slip my hand into my pocket and close it around the silver knife. I can feel there is a presence on the balcony that wasn't there before.

"Beautiful isn't it?" the voice comes from behind me, dark as the shadows that coalesce around two glowing red eyes. My mysterious vampiric stalker towers before me, dark hair falling over his shoulders. I almost sigh with relief then catch myself he's dangerous. At least he's the devil I know right? And the gorgeous devil I know at that.

"Yes, it is. The moonlight on the towers is stunning." I say, making the bold decision to show no fear and turn my back on him to look back out at the view, but I do keep my hand in my pocket on my knife. I can feel his presence close behind me.

"I see your little run in last week hasn't kept you in the library for long." His voice is deep and comes from just over my right shoulder.

"It's an amazing collection, but I can only learn so much from it." I say gesturing outward. "There aren't any books in there, as far as I know, that can show me a castle in the middle of New York City, or what it feels like to look over the edge." I don't mention that the books don't give me any reference on how to escape either.

"No, but it would be safer." He must be very close to me now. If it wasn't for the wind I believe I could feel his breath. Being this near to him is thrilling. It's crazy and dangerous, and I can't say that I don't enjoy it.

"I think that, here especially, that safety is an illusion. I may feel safer there, because blood crazed newly fledged vampires aren't chasing me down, but really I'm no safer than anywhere else in this castle." I pause. "If I'm marked for death I will die, and I don't think where I am will make much of a difference."

"And that doesn't bother you?" he says, coming up beside me finally and resting pale hands on the grey stone railing. Not denying my theory that I'm not safe anywhere.

"Of coarse it bothers me. I just know being upset about it won't change anything. I'm either going to die here, or I'm going to get out. In my mind those are the only two options." I turn to look at him. The moonlight glints off of him much in the same way it does on the castle, rendering his features in sharp relief. It does nothing to diminish his looks. If anything, it suits him. It's like he's part of the dark building itself.

"You believe you can escape?" he chuckles. I look up at him to see a hint of a smile turning his lips up at one corner. As if the idea of me escaping was adorably amusing. Like I'm a small child, naïve and woefully outmatched.

"I don't know if I can, but I'll be damned if I'm going to sit here and do nothing." I say, looking back out at the castle. I'm a little miffed at his reaction. Just because I'm not endowed with powers, or able to enthrall with a glance, doesn't mean I'm helpless and weak.

"Believe me," he says in a low voice, "there is no escape." I turn to look at him, now looming over me. "You will die here." A chill runs down my spine. There's no threat in his words, only certainty. I lean heavily on the railing. His certainty is worrying.

"I can't just lay down and die." I say, meeting his gaze. "That's just not who I am." I sigh and look back out toward the city, and try to ignore the smoldering presence next to me. How did I get into such a mess?

"Who are you then?" I can feel his crimson eyes boring into me. I suddenly realize how close we are. It's like I can feel his overpowering presence pushing against me.

"Asks the man whose name I don't even know. I'm not sure I should tell you." I deflect. As and afterthought I add "You also still hold a debt over my head, and I believe you mean to use it for something more important than learning a little about me."

"You are correct on that front." He replies from beside me.

"Do you have something in mind already?" I say, leaning forward and resting my hands on my elbows. The stone is rough and icy against my skin.

"Perhaps." He says enigmatically.

"How about this," I say; turning around and swinging myself up to sit on the wide stone balustrade. I swing my legs around and over the edge, until I'm swinging my feet back and forth in space. "I will tell you about myself, if you tell me about the castle a little bit."

"You wish to learn about it to better your escape attempt? I have no objections to this arrangement, your attempt is futile." He moves to stand beside me, long blackened claws resting inches from my own hand. I remember how those hands felt, and part of me is excited to possibly feel his touch again. I've go to get ahold of myself, sexy undead are a lower priority than getting out alive. Even though my body is aching for the electric feeling of his cold skin on mine again.

"I had an unconventional upbringing I guess." I say, watching a cloud of bats swirl over a far off tower. "My mom raised me half in the bookshop, and half out in the field doing her research. I never went to a conventional school, she taught me everything. By the time I was six I was bilingual. When I was seven my mom and my aunt Seraphine and I, along with Duke of coarse, went on an expedition out west to continue her research on werewolves. It was amazing; we spent a lot of time with a tribal shaman my aunt knew near Yellowstone Park. I think we spent a whole year out west, driving around hunting werewolves, watching, studying, dissecting. It was a great time for me, sometimes if what they were doing was too dangerous they would leave Duke and I for a day or two with the shaman. He was completely besotted with Duke. Before that, I didn't know how many true shape shifters were left in the world. Apparently, not very many, because Duke was the first he had met and he was ancient. I remember him always trying to get Duke to change form, trying to bribe him with salmon and things like that." I look over to find him staring at me. Half of his face is in shadow but the half that is lit by the moon is only what I can call intense. It seems like everything about him is intense.

"Your turn." I coax, pushing my hair out of my face even as the wind tries to toss it back. Being on the receiving end of that gaze is incredibly unsettling.

"The castle." He pauses, as if collecting his thoughts. "The castle is ancient, beyond any human civilization. It is twisted in its darkness and depravity; it holds the insanity of the thousands of souls who have been driven mad and perished within its walls. It has not rhyme or reason to its layout; many humans who have become trapped here simply go mad because of the structure itself, never needing to come in contact with it's inhabitants at all. It woke a little over a month ago and began to grow here, beneath the city."

"It seems like it would take a great amount of effort to grow a building, what powers it?"

"The castle possesses its own power, but it also draws on Lord Dracula's strength to travel." It's possible then that he's been weakened by the recent move then. I file that information away for later.

"I assume it has entrances and exits, but they are carefully hidden." I say, now turning my full attention away from the view and onto him. My god is he gorgeous, like a statue of a terrible and cruel ancient deity that time has forgotten. His hair is ruffled lightly by the wind, sending it dancing around his pale face and neck.

"You would have more luck drawing water from a stone than finding a way out of here." He replies, still studying me. That's all right, I never intended on walking out. Exits may not abound, but open balconies and windows sure do, flight was my only real plan from the start. The problem of how is still there, but that I'm sure I can work out given time.

"And the darkness? The fact that its always night, does that stem from the castle's corruption too?" I bend forward over me legs peering down the fifty-story drop.

"Yes," he pauses, "are you not troubled by the idea of plummeting to your death? Because you seem to be courting a swift descent."

"Heights have never troubled me. When I lean over the edge like this, I often feel like I could fly, like my bones remember it, but I just don't know how. My mom always said it was cruel, for god to give me the heart of a bird, but no wings." I sit back up to look back at him and start when he's much closer than before. I'm pretty sure I've just forgotten how to breathe. His eyes are locked on me and I feel like I'm turning to stone under his gaze.

"My lady," he says, making heat creep up my neck at his words "You could never have the heart of a bird; a fleeting, stupid creature. You," he pauses, "have the heart of a dragon." I'm taken aback by his words, I feel like he's paying me a deep complement. Dragons were the most incredible of the magical creatures. They died out hundreds of years ago, and it was one of the great tragedies of the world.

"Thank you, but I don't think I deserve that moniker. Dragons were supposed to be some of the most powerful, beautiful, creatures to ever walk this earth. Comparing me to them does their memory a disservice." I say, trying to move away from him, but failing completely. It's like before, when I was frozen in his presence.

"If only you knew how wrong you are." He's so close to me now I could almost feel his breath on my cheeks, if it weren't for the wind. His crimson eyes are so dark in the low light that they're almost black. I feel like I'm staring into the void, nothingness and eternity all at once in a dizzying, maddening fall. I instinctually grip the stone under me, as for the first time in my life I know what its like to feel vertigo. I shake my head, snapping myself out of my fog.

"Will you stop that!" I scoot off the stone and take a good step back. I need the space to clear my head.

"Stop what?" The hint of a smile betrays that he knows exactly what he's doing to me.

"The hypnotism or whatever it is! I know you can do things to the mind, and I'm not interested in being turned into a mindless drone thank you very much!" It sounds much more indignant than I had planned but to be honest I'm more than a little miffed.

"Someone's been doing her homework. Tell me then, little dragon, what do you think you know about me?"

"You're avoiding my point about the mind control but I'll ignore that. I know you're old, very old. You don't look like one of the new vampires; you've regained your human appearance, which puts you at least three hundred or so since you were turned. Only the most ancient vampires can do what you do, the teleporting, the subtle… would you call it suggestion? mind fuckery? That makes me think you are near or over a thousand. Your lack of knowledge about modern references when we first met in the library either leads me to conclude you have been living in the middle of nowhere for a very long time or, more likely, were in the castle when it fell, and you were trapped inside it, in that other place. Which means you've only been in the modern world for about a month now, which is probably a big adjustment from the last time you were here." I pause for breath, nothing in his expression gives me any indication as to if I am correct or not. I press on, going for broke. "Also, I think you're following me. Probably because you're bored, or because we're all drawn to what we're told we can't have. The big man tells everyone I'm off limits and suddenly I'm way more interesting." I'm genuinely startled by his reaction. He lets out a laugh, as dark and troubling as one could be.

"You have it all figured out, don't you?" He advances toward me again, slowly this time, like a terrible jungle cat.

"Not even close," I reply, backing up. "I'm still at a loss for much of this." I gesture outward toward the castle at large. "I'm trying to fill in the most important blanks first, but the only thing I really know is how much I don't know." The wind is starting to pick up and I shiver inadvertently as it goes right through my blouse. I really wish I had worn sleeves.

"I forget." He says in a gentler tone. "You humans are so fragile and catch cold so easily. Come inside." He gestures toward the door.

"I don't want to go back to my library prison yet. I'll risk the cold." I say. I really don't want to go back in. I'm feeling stir crazy inside and this is the first fresh air I've gotten since being dragged into the castle via teleportation.

"If you wish not to return to the library, then join me for a walk." He extends his arm to me, like some gentleman from a Victorian novel. He probably has been a Victorian gentleman. I have no doubt he's capable of protecting me from those that wander the castle, but I'm much more worried about the danger he poses. However, this could be a great chance to learn, and to explore the castle with one if its inhabitants. Also he hasn't done anything to hurt me yet. The knowledge I could gain may be invaluable. I take a step towards him and he offers me his arm. I hesitate then gingerly place my hand on his arm. The leather of his black coat is incredibly soft, but underneath I can feel he has biceps like steel girders. Heat floods my cheeks and I begin to pull back but he rests his other hand on mine, keeping me from withdrawing. His long blackened claw-like nails rest on the back of my wrist, barely pricking at my flesh as we enter the castle.

"I want you to know this isn't the normal way to walk now." I say, still flustered. Being this close to him is making my heart pound in my ears. It feels like my hand is on fire under his icy palm. His hand dwarfs mine, and even though I'm pale he's white like snow.

"Yet it is pleasant. Don't you agree?" He says, smirking down at me. Clearly reveling in my uncomfortableness at the position we're in.

"You get off on making me uncomfortable, don't you?" I frown up at him.

"I am unfamiliar with that exact phrasing, but I believe I understand the gist of your statement." His footsteps make no sound as we walk down the dimly lit passage. "I must admit, that yes, I enjoy toying with you." At least I have that small victory.

"So is fucking with people all you like to do? Or do you have other hobbies?" I say, looking up to him. His countenance is dark, but incredibly appealing to look at. It's like staring at an exquisitely carved marble statue. From what I can tell he doesn't even breathe.

"Not people, my lady." The look he gives me is positively sinful. "You." I can feel the heat rise to my cheeks for the second time this night, and I'm left fumbling for a response. Thankfully, I don't have to come up with one. A shadow moves down the passage and he puts his arm out to stop my progress. Whatever it is moves on after a minute and we continue on our way.

"What was that?" I ask, peering past his towering countenance down the hallway as we cross it.

"Something you wouldn't want to meet alone." He says, not even looking at me.

"That describes everything here. I want details." I say. We pause in our walk and he looks down at me.

"Your curiosity here will be both a blessing and a curse to you. It was a lesser demon, bestial in nature, and driven mainly by instinct and the command of its betters." He steps forward and I take his arm again, as we continue our walk.

"and you're one of it's betters then?" I ask. Trying to ignore the feeling of rippling muscle under my hand.

"Yes my dear. They are as ants to me." He says leading me down another richly adorned passage. We pass by a doorway descending into a staircase and I feel as though an invisible force has stopped me. I let go of his arm and turn slowly as if in a trance to look down into the darkness. It feels like something deep in my chest is starting to stir, as if it is being pulled on by something down there. I take a step forward toward the stairs. The torches on either side of the archway flare up as if doused with gasoline, but they barely register in my mind. It's like something is whispering from the darkness into my very soul. Like a piece of me I didn't know I had is being called to by some unknown yearning. I step forward onto the first step.

"What are you doing?" The voice snaps me out of whatever trance I'm in. I look up to see him looking down at me with brows furrowed, hand on my shoulder.

"I…." what the hell was that? What was I doing? "I… don't know." I can still feel the whispers faintly in the back of my head. "There's something down there." I say dazedly. "What's down there?" I shake my head, trying to clear it, but it feels like a fog has come over me. The torches leap and flicker on the wall, as if blowing in some high wind, even though nothing stirs the still passage.

"I had hoped to have more time before this." He says, forcibly turning me towards him. I can't seem to summon the will to fight; I'm still in a dazed state. "I believe you have awoken my little dragon." I stare up at his pale sculpted face. What does he mean awoken? More time before what?"

"What?" I say dumbly. The whispers pull at the back of my mind, telling me to come find them. He turns my chin back toward him with a long finger. I didn't realize I was looking down the stairs again.

"My lady, what you said when we met, about not having magical abilities, couldn't be more false. Your powers were simply dormant; they have felt the call of their kindred and awoken." I shake my head, trying to clear it.

"You're on crack." I manage to laugh out. "I don't have magic." My head is spinning like the floor is moving under me.

"I beg to differ." He says, backing me into the wall. My hips hit the stone and it jars me back into reality. He's leaning over me, eyes burning like coals. In the deepest, most sinful voice I've ever heard he says "My dear, you have enough magic, I can almost taste it." I know I've turned ten shades of red. Oh god, he's so close. He steps into me, I feel his leg press in between mine and heat floods through my body like a forest fire. His hand moves to my jawline and he tips my head back to look up at him. He's inches away from me, breath ghosting over my lips. What would it feel like to kiss him? My heart has climbed into my throat and I've completely stopped breathing. He tilts my head to the side and leans into me. His lips brush my jawbone just under my ear and a whimper escapes unbidden from me. They're like ice and my skin is on fire under them. It's like I'm on fire, against his icy skin as a hand grips my shoulder. I blink; suddenly he's gone. "See? You do have it," he says gesturing to my right from across the hallway. I turn and jump back with a yelp. The torches have turned into an inferno, blazing up the wall and across the ceiling of the passage.

"I didn't do that!" I yell, backing away from the blaze. There's no way. I don't have abilities. I was tested, they tested me, I don't have magic.

"Maybe not consciously, but your feelings did." The smirk on his face has me turning a whole new shade of red. Did I do that? Is it possible that the heat I felt manifested into the blaze? I look back and the torches have smoldered back down.

"No. Just no." I say, slumping against the wall. "They tested me, the witches tested me, and I don't have powers." It's almost a whimper coming out of me. I flash back to being four years old; A dark room, three women in a circle around me, my mother and aunt in the background. "Stop fucking with me. You're having fun pushing my buttons, you know I'm sensitive about that and I don't know what you're trying to do but I'm not buying it." I don't feel well, it feels like my heart is skipping beats, or like something is pressing on it. I lean back, resting my head on the wall.

"You're belief is not required." He murmurs, coming back towards me. "You are powerful, whether you think so or not."

"It's not belief, its fact. Why are you so set on hurting me with this?" I wheeze out. Something inside me is crushing my lungs. He puts his hand on my upper arm as I begin to gasp for air.

"Relax; it will be better soon. What would have developed over years is waking in minutes." What the fuck does he mean? My insides feel like they're vibrating; pulsing with so much energy and trying to escape my body. I'm sure I would fall if not for his inescapable grip on my arm. It feels like something inside me is expanding, pushing outward through my very being. Like I'm an egg that has grown to small to hold the creature inside, and must be shattered. My lungs won't work, won't move, I gulp like a fish out of water, desperately trying to get air. My whole body is tingling like it's being electrocuted. My vision is starting to darken around the edges. This is how I end isn't it? Strangled to death by some unknown thing. What a stupid way to die.

"Stop fighting it." he murmurs, almost gently, or maybe I imagine that part. Fighting, fighting what? All I'm fighting for is air. His sleeves slide through my hands as I desperately grasp for purchase as my knees buckle. Instead of moving down, however, I'm suddenly moving upward as he catches me and picks me up as though I weigh nothing. From down a long dark tunnel I see his perfect pale face. Crimson eyes rimmed by dark lashes, a strong jaw under a dark goatee, and his sinful lips. I remember what they felt like brushing just beneath my ear. If his features are going to be the last thing I see, I can't say that I'm disappointed. Then the darkness swallows my vision.


	7. Chapter 7

Hi guys I'm sorry for the slow upload time. I work two jobs so this sometimes takes the backseat to that. I will try to keep a slow but steady stream of uploads coming. Thank you so much to everyone who has followed and favorited this story it means so much to me 3 I never expected such a response. 3 3 3

Lucidity comes to me in brief instances; as if I'm drowning in a sea of black. Every time I surface for air another wave crashes over me, dragging me down. I see the glint of torches. Seconds, maybe hours later, there are rough wood planks. Darkness again, floating in nothing, then something soft under me. The void consumes me once more.

I don't know how long I'm unconscious. Time here is unfathomable even without the absence of the sun. I'm warm, somewhere soft, my body is still buzzing, but it's less overwhelming, I'm breathing. I'm alive. I struggle to open my eyes. Nothing feels the way it should. My head feels like it's been packed full of cotton. I manage to crack one eye open. I'm on my side looking into a fireplace… my fireplace. He must have brought me back to my rooms. I close my eyes. I really thought I was going to die. I drift between sleep and waking for a long time before eventually falling asleep.

I'm walking down endless repeating hallways, lost in the maze of the castle.

 _"Come…"_ the whisper comes from nowhere and everywhere at once. I try to follow it, but It's always just around the next corner. I spend hours searching for something I do not know. Finally I manage to pull myself back to consciousness. I lay awake, but unmoving, mulling over the day in my head. What the hell just happened to me? Is it possible he was telling the truth, and that I have abilities after all?

I sit up on the couch, blearily taking in the fireplace, the table… and a piece of paper on top of my book. That wasn't there when I left. I grab the paper, not paper really, more like parchment. Written in an elegant hand the words read: _You will come to the ball held tonight at midnight and humor me with a dance and I will consider your debt paid._ No, hope you're feeling better, or hope you don't have brain damage from lack of oxygen, or sorry for messing with you and telling you you have powers. Nope, just an order for a dance. Fuck. I don't dance. I mean, sometimes I would "dance" with Duke around the apartment, but that was in the "cat lady going to die alone" way not the real way. It's not like I haven't dated, it's just hard when you live in a different world from most other people. Either you get the crystal hippies, or the few real magic people who feel bad for you. I never wanted to be someone's pity date because I don't have powers. So I've settled for a string of short relationships and one night stands, and contented myself in the knowledge that pretty much all the women in my family have been doing this for centuries. Casters tend to be solitary, my family in the extreme, so I don't exactly have a problem with being the weird book shop cat lady.

I slump forward with my head in my hands and groan. It's probably going to be some horrible affair like from a Jane Austen novel, all posturing and manners and unspoken rules to fuck up. Oh, and I have nothing to wear. I check my phone.

"Ten thirty!" I scream, throwing it across the room. That means I've only got an hour and a half to get ready for this thing. I bolt from the couch and run into the bathroom, pulling off my clothes like they're on fire. If speed showering were an Olympic sport I would take gold for sure. I'm showered and shaved in under twenty minutes. I hurriedly blow-dry my hair, after my second attempt at putting it up fails horribly I settle for braiding it to the side in the interest of time. It usually looks good that way anyway. After painstaking makeup application I collapse down in front of the open wardrobe in despair. I threw random clothes into the bag when I was so unceremoniously dragged here, and all I really have anyway is my work clothes; sweaters, skirts, jeans, leggings, a few sweater dresses, nothing suitable for an undead ball. After ten minutes the only thing I've succeeded in is throwing the contents of the wardrobe all over the room. Looking at my phone I've only got fifteen minutes left. I reluctantly pick up my black sweater dress and pull it on. It looks good, but not for a dance. It hugs my frame nicely, and all, but its just an everyday dress. I don't want to be late so I slip on my ankle boots and prepare for a horrible night of looking totally out of place, not only being way underdressed, but also being the only human. I climb resolutely up my stairs, imagining myself as Anne Boleyn walking proudly to her execution.

I open the door, and almost trip over the large brown package in front of my door. I steady myself on the doorframe and lift up the package. It's fairly heavy, so I bring it back inside and set it on the coffee table. Under the lid is dark maroon tissue paper with a note on top. _I would be honored if you would wear this tonight._ It's written in a familiar elegant hand. Damn him. I gingerly peel away the layers of tissue paper to reveal the most beautiful dress I've ever seen. The bodice is emerald green silk covered in lace of the same hue. I pull it out mouth agape as it pools on the floor. It's cut off the shoulder with a sweetheart neckline. Long sleeves of green lace run to the elbow where they are slit open and the lace hangs down almost to the floor. The skirt is floor length, slightly gathered at the waist, and completely silk. I immediately strip off my sweater dress in the middle of the living room and throw it aside. I pull the new dress over my head and I'm momentarily enveloped in a green cocoon. It slides down over me like water and I realize in horror, what I thought was just an unzipped zipper is actually a completely open back, which is so low I'm instantly uncomfortable. I pull the lace sleeves up to just under my shoulders. Where they split open at the inside of the elbows there is a small, from what I can tell, real emerald. Under the dress in the package, is a pair of beautiful, strappy, black high heels. Marveling at the way the dress hangs off of me, slightly pooling on the floor, I walk back to the bathroom to look in the mirror. It's truly stunning. Ridiculously I feel like when I was little and playing princess. I turn forward and back in the mirror. I don't think I've ever looked this good. The emerald green makes my hair glow like flames. I'm running late now though. I rush back up the stairs and through the library into the vestibule, before I realize I have no idea where I'm supposed to be.

"Uh… Castle, I really need your help." I say into the silence. "I'm supposed to be going to this ball, and I'm late, and I have no idea where I'm going." The castle remains silent, but I hope it heard me. I strike out in a random direction, gathering my skirts up to hurry down the hallways, like some storybook heroine running through fields. Instead I'm running through an undead castle. After a few minutes I start to hear the sound of music carrying down the hallways over my echoing footsteps. I follow the sound and soon I can hear laughter and voices as well. The music is both beautiful, and foreboding. I have to do this though. He could call this debt in for so much worse than a dance. Even though it's torture for me socially, it's not real torture, which he could have actually done probably. There's light and music pouring through the open two story tall heavy wooden doors at the end of the hallway. On either side of the door is a dishonored vampire standing guard, sword drawn. They make no indication that they notice me approaching, though I know they must. Through the door I can see many, many people, vampires mostly I presume, moving in an enormous space. I breathe slowly trying to calm the feeling rising in the pit of my stomach. Dread? Nervousness? Foreboding? Maybe it's a mix of all three. I take a deep breath; in through the nose, slowly out through the mouth, then I make my way toward the door. The hall must be at least three stories tall, maybe four. Ornately carved balconies, on which I can see the musicians playing, surround it. A series of enormous candelabras runs down the length of the room, shedding light on the scene from hundreds of flickering candles. I'm grateful that as I make my way inside only the few vampires near the entrance even seem to notice me. It seems like most are gathered around the dance floor in idle gossip, and I quietly make my way down the side of the hall, sticking close to the wall so as to draw as little attention as possible. I believe most of these are vampires, but some are clearly something else. There are Incubi and Succubi, and things I think are demons, but then there are others, possibly nameless things; dark creatures that humanity has done well to forget.

"Rose!" I turn to see Lilli making her way towards me through the crowd, followed by, from his looks, what I can only assume is an Incubus.

If I thought Lilli was scantily clad before, boy was I wrong. She's wearing a dress, if you can call it that, of completely sheer, dark blue silk with little silver flowers embroidered on it. It's held up by a thick silver band around her neck and simply drapes down her form. I immediately resign myself to eye contact with her through our entire conversation because underneath she is completely nude. It's not that I have a problem with nudity, but she's somewhat of a friend now and it seems awkward to hold a conversation with someone you're not intimately involved with while staring at his or her naked body.

"Hi Lilli." I say awkwardly focusing on her forehead.

"What are you doing here Rose? Your dress is so beautiful! I wish I looked that good in green" She clamors.

"I got a last minute invitation I couldn't refuse." I say wryly.

"Oh! It wasn't mister tall dark and mysterious from the library was it?"

"The very same." I say fidgeting with my skirt idly. "He called in a debt I had to him, and to be honest, I thought it would be something way worse."

"If this is all he wanted then you're probably very lucky!" She tosses her hair over one shoulder with her silver manicured nails, and gestures to the man who has now moved to her left. "This is Torynir by the way." Torynir takes my hand in his grip and bows low, brushing his lips over it, in a way that is definitely more than just a polite gesture.

"I am charmed to meet you, lady Rose. I hope to see more of you in the future." The innuendo is clear in his almost black eyes as he straightens to meet my gaze. He's shirtless, and dressed in leather pants so tight he might as well not be wearing them either. His horns are black and tightly curled and protrude from spiky brown hair.

"It's Nice to meet you Torynir." I reply. I can definitely see how people get in trouble with these guys. He's insanely hot, in the way that makes you want to openly stare. It looks like my eye contact rule is going to be in effect for everyone tonight I guess. Although I thought Incubi were supposed to charm women with their mere presence, and he's hot, that's undeniable, but I'm not falling at his feet. Maybe that power was exaggerated, or maybe they can turn it off.

"Have you seen him yet?" Lilli asks excitedly, drawing me out of my thoughts. I scan the crowd but there's no sign of him yet.

"No, maybe he's not here yet."

"There are still a few people trickling in. Lord Dracula has yet to arrive also, He usually kicks things off about half past midnight anyway." I feel dread creep over me. I'm finally going to see the terrible ruler of this castle, reportedly one of the most evil beings to ever walk the earth. Apparently my apprehension is noticeable because Lilli puts her hand on my arm.

"Don't worry. How about we get you a drink to calm your nerves?"

"A drink sounds amazing." I sigh, glad at the hope of soothing my nerves with liquid courage. Lilli motions to a servant with a silver tray stacked with silver goblets who hurries over. I pull one off the tray and sniff the red liquid within; only wine, for which I am thankful. I take a large gulp. The wine is deep and rich, and I can feel it start to rush to my head. I don't know when the last time it was I ate. Before leaving the library for the Moon Terrace, and I have no idea how long ago that was. Drinking on an empty stomach is really not my idea of the way to start an evening, nerves or no. I resort to simply taking small sips after that. Lilli and I chat, with Torynir adding in bits and pieces. Thankfully another servant brings us small meat pastries, and after getting assurances from Lilli that it's only beef I eat one to soak up the wine.

"My Children." The voice echoes across the room. The music stops and everyone goes silent, turning to face the front of the hall. A tall figure stands on a raised dais at the front of the hall. His pale chest is bare under a crimson leather coat trimmed in gold that almost reaches the floor. He wears a wide decorative belt with a silver skull emblazoned on it. His long black hair falls over his shoulders, framing smoldering eyes and a dark goatee. I choke on my wine.

"For a hundred years I have slept." His voice rings out.

"Lilli!" I whisper. She looks at me. "That's him." I choke out.

"Who?" She whispers back.

"But once more I have awakened, and the castle is reborn into the world." Although he is barely speaking louder than normal his voice rings clear through the whole room.

"The man from the library. The one who asked me here tonight." I grip her arm.

"You mean your mystery man is Lord Dracula!" She squeaks. We're getting glares from the vampires around us now.

"I don't know." I whimper back. I'm so royally fucked right now. My head is whirring. He's been scoping me out, figuring out how I operate this whole time. He wanted to know who I really was, so he came as a nobody, someone I wouldn't know had an agenda, and who I wouldn't hide mine from. He's been playing with me, flirting with me, and on some level it was working. He's had thousands of years to seduce women to get what he wants and like a stupid little girl I was walking right into it, but what is he after? Probably this power he thinks I have. He's going to be pissed when I turn out not to have them.

"Tonight we celebrate this, and…" He pauses scanning the room, until his eyes lock onto mine in the back of the crowd. "The many times great, granddaughter of one of my greatest foes has been brought into our fold." He raises his hand, palm up. "Rose dear, may I have the first dance?" My legs turn to jelly as all eyes in the room lock onto me. The wine is definitely threatening to come back up, but I tamp it back down. I am sure I wouldn't be walking, except I'm not doing it under my own power. The crowd parts before me as I walk forward as if in a dream. I'm definitely not moving my own legs. Oh god I am in way too deep. The crowd parts and he's standing there before me, in all appearances a king of the damned. The lying bastard is actually smiling at me, hand outstretched. I stop in front of him, regaining control of my legs, and almost falling. I steady myself. He's been playing me this entire time. Learning about me, feeling me out. He looks down at me, his smile is mocking. It seems like he even knows more about my family history than I do. I reluctantly place my hand in his; mine is dwarfed, as he wraps his clawed fingers around it. He pulls me in towards him, resting one hand on my waist. I reach up and lightly place my hand on his shoulder. The armored gold edges of his leather jacket are hard under my fingers.

"You look beautiful." He murmurs, so only I can hear. "The green was the right choice, it brings out your eyes, and turns your hair to fire." The musicians start up again; they might be playing a waltz, I'm not sure though.

"I'm not letting you breeze right over the fact you've been playing me all week. Also, more importantly, I can't dance." I keep my voice low so the vampires around us can't hear. He bends down until his lips almost brush my ear. I flash back to a few hours ago in the hallway, his cool lips ghosting just under my ear.

"If you let me lead you, no one will know you cannot dance." He murmurs, starting to pull me forward.

"I'm pretty sure that's not true." I stumble after him. I've never really danced, not like this. I can tell though that he's practiced, and I really don't want to look like a fool. I can feel all the eyes in the room on us. Many of the female vampires are openly glaring at me. My breath goes still in my lungs. If looks could kill I would be dead already. All of them would undoubtedly kill to be where I am right now. The funny thing is I would happily trade places with them… or maybe I wouldn't. Something about being near him is intoxicating. It's the second where the rollercoaster stops at the top of the hill and you're hanging over the precipice; terrifying and thrilling in the excitement. He's pulling me along to the music, and to my chagrin I'm completely letting him.

"You seem to know more about me than I do. You talk like you knew my family." I've gotta try to figure out what his angle is, why he's interested.

"You my lady, are a direct descendant down your maternal line from Sirena The Cunning; you are the first daughter, of a first daughter, of a first daughter, and so on. She was one of my most formidable adversaries." I feel a little better now that a few other pairs have joined us on the dance floor.

"Until you killed her? Why is this important? I told you already I don't have abilities, even if I did they'd be nothing compared to anyone here. Truthfully I don't see why you're so interested."

"All will be revealed in good time. You know as much as I want you to know for now." He pulls me closer to him, "I hope you will simply enjoy tonight."

"Enjoy tonight? What part exactly am I supposed to enjoy?" I say irately. "The part where you tricked me into coming here, or the part where everyone here now wants to kill me, or maybe the part where you think you can play me and I'll just go along with it?" I'm fuming now; I'm not a damn pawn on his chessboard, to be played for his amusement.

"Be careful, Rose, you've caught your dress on fire." He pats at the wrist of my sleeve; I look down to see a singed bit in the lace, still smoking, sparks still glowing at the edges. What the fuck; did I do that? "You really must get ahold of your temper." He murmurs, spinning me around. Patronizing, intoxicating son of a bitch. My temper isn't the problem; it's him! The music finally ends and I pull away.

"I believe my part of the bargain is fulfilled." I say giving a slight bow of my head with all the venom I can muster. "I hope you have a wonderful evening." And I turn with as much confidence as I can fake and walk away. I can feel all the eyes on me as I walk back through the double doors and out of the hall. The torches flare up on the walls as I pass them.

Even though I'm sure I followed the same path I used to get here, after fifteen minutes I'm still not back at the library. It's hard to continue fuming when your feet are sore. I lean against the wall, and pull of the beautiful if impractical heels with a sigh. Clearly "Lord Dracula" isn't done with me, or I would have found my way back to the library by now. I continue on barefoot. The flagstones are cold and smooth under the soles of my feet. It's not an unpleasant feeling. It reminds me of going barefoot as a child outside in the mud of a riverbank; searching for fairies under the leaves and inside tree hollows. I doubt there are fairies here. The things that hide in these shadows are twisted and strange. I only found a fairy once, when I wasn't looking for it of course. I was making dandelion chains with Duke, Seraphine and Mom were out for the day, and they'd left us nominally under the care of a friend. I had finished Duke's dandelion crown and had just started on mine. I was hunting for more dandelions, when I came back, there was something blue poking out from behind Duke's flower crown; A pair of tiny gossamer wings, then a little face. I laid down in the grass in my muddy overalls and watched, as she plucked fur from Duke's tail, gathering it in her arms. He didn't seem to mind, simply watching her. She was there for only a few minutes but it was wonderful. I drew pictures in crayon of her the whole week afterwards, taping them up to the walls, and the fridge. I ran out of blue crayons and we had to go buy more.

The hallways are cold, and after almost an hour it's starting to seep into my bones, I could put the impractical heels on again so my feet wouldn't be on the cold floor, but it would slow me down. I put my hands up to one of the torches, trying to get a little circulation back into them. The flames bend out towards my palms. I pull them back, and the flames move back to normal. I put my hand out again, and the flames reach toward me. It's warm, but not hot. I move a little closer hesitantly. The flames wrap around my fingertips. I pull back, waiting for the pain, but it doesn't come. I reach back out, sticking them into the flame, it's almost unbearably hot… but not burning. The flames wrap around my hand, almost caressing me. It feels like I've stuck my hand in very hot water, but water flowing upward with the flames. I slowly pull my hand away, but the fire stays wrapped around my fist, like I'm the torch now. I fan my fingers out slowly, watching it writhe between them. I'm starting to get used to the heat now, it's not spreading like flame should; it's just staying put. I can almost feel it, not the heat, but the flame itself, sort of how your hair doesn't have feeling, but you can feel where it is by how your scalp feels. I push at it experimentally and it flares up. I breathe in, quieting my mind, and it simmers down to a low blue flame. Still hot, but still not painful. I push in my gut again and it flares back to where it started. Is this what he was talking about? That I really do have powers? Certainly normal people can't light their hands on fire.

I start walking again, running things over in my head. The torches flaring, the flames moving toward me, like they were eager to touch me. I pass the flame from one hand to the other, it moves freely from my right to my left. My fingertips are slightly blackened with soot, but other than that they're untouched. I rub the black dust between my fingertips. I can't bear to hope that it's true; to entertain the idea that I have magic is like an insidious poison to my soul. Hope is a danger. I remember how I held out hope that they were wrong about me being powerless. How I tried every day to make them manifest. It only made it worse when I finally knew deep down I didn't have magic. I was heartbroken; not sobbing dramatic heartbroken, but the kind that sits and stares at the wall all day, unmoving, trying to piece an idea of a life back together. I was eight. When all your life you've thought you were going one way, then fate wrenches the wheel away from you and you're on a different road. It takes time to adjust; it takes a whole different person. You come out of it a different person after your whole future crashed down around you. I can't rekindle that hope, I just can't. My heart can't take it again. It's a yearning so deep it was a physical pain. Like I would die without it, but somehow, I kept going. One foot in front of the other, I kept going, one day at a time; even though I was sure I couldn't. I built a life on the outskirts of the magical community, just like my mother. Somehow, even when all you've dreamed about is flying, being close to the birds is less painful than locking yourself away from them. It's a sweet torture. Everything you've dreamed of, just out of your grasp. I can't go back to that hope. It has to be him; he's playing me somehow. He's said to have great powers; he's causing this. He made me feel all those things in the hallway. Made me pass out, and then invited me to the dance as part of his elaborate game. Unfortunately, I can't see the whole chessboard from where I'm sitting on it.

I think I've wandered into some kind of statue gallery, I really hope this isn't actually the lair of a medusa or something, but the statues aren't randomly posed, they look too intentional for being petrified people, or at least that's my hope. If I get petrified tonight at least I look good in this dress. The sculptures seem like they're from all different eras. There's a crumbling Egyptian statue of Osiris, next to a Hellenistic statue of a man reclining on a bed, with another man above him plunging a knife into his heart. Further on is a Roman sculpture, of a woman being dragged away by a satyr. I'm seeing a theme here; all of the sculptures are about death and pain. As I continue to walk there's a man with a serpent wrapped around him, strangling the life out of him. The shadows cast by the flickering flames on my hand cause the statues to seem like they're moving. Like the man towering almost ten feet high is still desperately trying to pry the great snake off of him. I hold my hand high to try to cast the light farther as I continue down the grand hall. Blank eyes stare back at me from the sculptures as I pass between them. A few minutes later I come across one who's subject matter I recognize: Cronus devouring his children. The titan is depicted on one knee ripping into a half eaten child, tiny body parts strewn about his feet. I'm really getting tired of walking; resting here for a minute seems like a good idea. I have no idea when I'm getting out of this maze. I slide down the base of the statue; the backless dress means my bare back is pressed into the cold marble, and it's not exactly comfortable. I hold the flame in front of my face, staring into its depths. A deep sense of loneliness settles over me. In the great empty room, I feel more alone than I've ever been. It's not that I'm an extrovert, or that I like being around people; It's just something about being here, living with no allies, is getting to me. I miss Duke. There must be a better way to say it than that though. He's my oldest and dearest friend, He's always been in my life. We've never been apart like this before. Half of me (the selfish half) wishes desperately he was here, and the other half is intensely happy that he isn't. I couldn't stand for him to get hurt because of me, but I wish I had someone to confide in whom I knew I could really trust.

I sigh, leaning my head back against the stone base of the statue. I guess Drac has put me on ice for a while. I definitely don't appreciate being forced to wander the castle while he enjoys the party. He could have just let me go back to my rooms, or maybe it isn't him, maybe the castle is just enjoying toying with me. How much of an awareness does it have? Is it conscious, or just kind of a presence? Probably the only one who knows is Dracula himself and I'm sure he's not going to tell me. Should I just wait here, or should I keep moving? Maybe Dracula isn't going to find me tonight, maybe I should keep going. On the other hand, this room, although creepy, feels relatively safe. I could wander somewhere worse, but I don't want to stay stuck here if he's not coming for me.

I finally decide to keep going, and with a groan, make my way to my feet; still somehow managing to keep the fire steady. It's almost like having a friend. I'm probably losing it, thinking this little fire is my friend. I'm a sad lonely girl in a death castle.

At the end of the extensive hall is an enormous statue of Cerberus the three-headed dog that guards the gates of the underworld. Each head is snarling with bared teeth at some unseen threat. There's a small door on the wall to the statue's right, and it looks like that's the only way out of the hall, other than where I came in. I open it and it's a spiral staircase downward. I set my hand onto the carved stone banister and send the flames dancing downward, following the banister's curve. Stone doesn't light on fire, hands don't light on fire, but here we are.

The flames lead me downward and into a small circular chamber, some kind of in between place, an antechamber maybe. The flames in my hand glint off a polished marble floor and walls, I touch the wall beside me and the flames skitter wildly across the smooth surface. They look almost like veins in a leaf, a living, breathing thing. It's as if I can feel life in them.

 _Take…_ the voice echoes. I whip around, but the chamber is empty. It was the same voice, the one I heard in my dreams, deep and reverberating, a growl really. The flames flare up like an inferno in my hand.

"What do you mean? Who are you?" I turn again, hoping to see someone, but the room is empty. Flames erupt on the other side of the room from a small alcove. They're warm, inviting…

 _Take…_ it rumbles again. I don't think it's out loud, I think the voice is in my head. This is like the final sign of insanity right, hearing voices is the last step. I've skipped right past all the others and moved right into complete crazy. The flames are inviting, maybe they aren't even there; maybe I'm hallucinating all of this fire. It would make sense, it would explain why I didn't burn; there was nothing to burn. I walk up to the fire, unafraid, it's probably not real. The little alcove has some kind of a statue in it, it's a little monster maybe? A dog, or cat, or something; it's heavily eroded by time and I can't distinguish what it is. I reach out and pick it up, the weight of the stone in my hand is less than I expected. It should be very heavy. I turn it over in my hands, the flames dancing over its surface… glinting off something hidden in the hollow bottom. Maybe this was what the voice was talking about. Now I really am crazy, listening to the voice. Whatever it is is jammed in there pretty tight. It's smooth with a kind of rippled texture, and hard. Maybe if I can wiggle my fingers up behind it, I can pop it out. The whole thing is incredibly hard to get a hold of, like maybe it's a chunk of metal or obsidian or something. I yank hard and it grinds free with a screeching sound of metal on stone. What I'm holding however doesn't seem like it's metal. It flashes a beautiful sapphire blue in the firelight. It's somewhere between an oval and a diamond shape, and roughly the size of my palm. I turn it over; the underside is much paler, and not as metallic. It looks like a scale from something immense. It feels warm in my hands as the flames lick over it. It's really beautiful, almost like a gem. It doesn't burn, or char, or even get soot on it. It just gleams in my palm. Another sign the fire isn't actually here.

"I hope you're in a better mood now than when you stormed out of the ball a few hours ago." The velvet voice says from behind me. I jump, hurriedly replacing the statue and stuffing the scale down my bra. For some reason I don't think he would want me finding this. I turn to face him, holding my hand high, flames smoldering in my open fist.

"No, I'm definitely not pissed anymore that you tricked me, lied to me, and trotted me out in front of the entire castle like a prize pig at a fair." I growl. The flames leap higher at my anger. He stands like a monolith in the middle of the room, as unmoving as if he were a statue.

"It looks like you've finally accepted your powers at least." He doesn't look pleased at my response though.

"Wait, the fire is real?" I say, looking to my hand where the flames dance.

"Did you think you imagined it?" A smile quirks up at the corner of his lips

"And the voice then?" I press.

"I am unaware of a voice, the flame is not alive, although you may interpret it as such." He advances toward me.

"You're doing this then… you're making this to drive me crazy!" I shout, shoving my hand forward toward him. The flame leaps out, roaring after him as if I've unleashed a flamethrower in the small room. Before the flame can get near him though he's simply gone.

"So much power." He murmurs from behind me. "Only a few hours old and yet you can do what many humans practice their whole lives for." I turn around to face him. However, I didn't expect him to be so close. He takes my still flaming hand in his, wrapping his much larger fist around mine, smothering the fire between our palms.

"Once again, your ignoring what I'm saying about you screwing with me! I've heard about how you like to mess with people until they go crazy." He stares silently at me for a few long, drawn out, moments. His crimson eyes bore into me with an intensity that scares me, it's like he's ripping bare my soul under his gaze.

"I swear," He murmurs, cupping my cheek in his other hand "on whatever cursed semblance of a life I have, I am not making those flames, nor are they a figment of your imagination." Somehow, even though he's supposed to be an evil manipulator, I believe him on this one. His presence is still just as intoxicating as the first time. I'm trying to ignore it, but his fingers are tracing small circles on my cheek. It feels so wonderful; I lean into his touch. Deep down I want more. I know it's the most stupid idea in the history of stupid ideas. He's intoxicating and I want to get drunk on him.

"Then what are they?" I look down at my soot stained fingers, trapped in his clawed ones. What am I? His presence is still just as intoxicating as the first time. I'm trying to ignore it, but his fingers are tracing small circles on my cheek. It feels so wonderful; I lean into his touch. Deep down I want more. I know it's the most stupid idea in the history of stupid ideas. He's intoxicating and I want to get drunk on him.

"They're yours." He murmurs, tucking a loose strand of hair behind my ear. "You are so special my dear." I look up to meet his gaze and the heat burning there is so intense I'm taken aback. He looms over me and I'm so close to him now if he had a heartbeat he could feel it, my hand in his, his fingers running through my hair. It feels so good to be near him. I slowly interlace my fingers with his. My hand is dwarfed by his; his claw like fingernail scrape lightly over my skin. I look back up and meet his crimson eyes.

"What am I?" I whisper. I feel so alone, so overwhelmed. Everything is happening too fast. I try to search for the answers in his crimson eyes. He pauses as if he's searching my face for something too. He leans in towards me, as if he's going to tell me a secret, but all I can think about is how close his lips are to mine, how I can smell him, it's a scent like cold stone, and the faintest smell of dried roses. I place my hand on his chest, feeling the muscles, cold as granite underneath my fingers. His grip tightens around my hand. I can feel his breath on my face, and once again I get that feeling of vertigo as I stare into his eyes, like I'm falling into him.

"You are perfect." He whispers, before crashing his lips into mine. The kiss is desperate and wild. He completely overpowers me, fingers tangling in my hair. His lips crush mine, forcing them into submission. A whimper dies in my throat as his lips massage mine with such fervor I can barely breathe. I press myself closer to him, and a rumble resonates through his chest, a low animalistic growl. My whole body is burning with a passion I didn't know I possessed. His lips are ice and mine are fire.

" _Stay away from her_!" The shriek comes as I'm ripped out of his grasp and thrown backwards onto the floor. In font of me, back turned, is a woman in a green dress, similar to mine, she has long flowing red hair cascading down her back, but the most noticeable thing is that she's transparent. Completely, one hundred percent see through.

"Hello M'lady," The vampire paces forward, apparently annoyed at the interruption. "I had thought you had evaporated into nothing a long time ago."

" _You wish bastard."_ She's fading already, like mist in the sun. _"Keep your hands off of her!"_ she screams as the last bits of her blow away, as if in a gentle wind. I pick myself up off the ground.

"What. The hell. Was that? A jealous ex back from the dead?" I groan. He pauses, staring at me with the hint of a smile.

"Rose, meet Sirena, your grandmother."

"My grandmother!" I yell. "That thing is not my grandma."

"Well, not your direct grandmother, but a few grandmothers removed. You are her progeny."

"So what, my great great-grandma is haunting your castle?" I say in confusion. As if my life isn't fifty shades of weird already.

"When things die here, they don't just disappear, their spirits are trapped here, and eventually the castle devours them. Humans usually last only a few months before their souls are consumed, maybe a year. Sirena has been here for somewhere over three hundred years. It must have taken her quite a bit of energy to manifest so aggressively. I doubt she will be back again. I will make sure of it." He stalks towards me; the hunger is gone from his eyes, but what might be anger is there now. So I'm getting cock blocked by my great great-grandmother's angry ghost. Fuck my life! How has she been here for so long?

"What is she then? If she's been here a few hundred years."

"She's a ghost." He says impassively.

"No shit Sherlock, what was she before she died?" I'm so done with his games; I'm done with the riddles and half answers.

"Before I killed her, she was the last dragon."


End file.
